Red vs Blue Season 20
by Monty Mason
Summary: Cradle of Hope fell, the terrorist threat ended and the BGC went back to a peaceful life within their canyon. But their actions have not gone unnoticed for now they will be thrust into the greatest challenge they have ever faced, an all out war. They will be forced to see the cruelties and trauma of war through which they must survive together. - Not an adaption of the show S20 -
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Red vs. Blue IP nor any of the characters from the official show used here. Rooster Teeth and any other investing parties are the rightful owner to that. I however do own the story as well as any original characters in here.**

 **For when Rooster Teeth releases the official Season 20, this fanfiction is NOT meant to be an adaption or related to that in any shape or form. This is simply a continuation of my Red vs. Blue fanfictions.**

 **Rated M for Mature as it contains language and possibly other mature content.**

* * *

 **Prologue**

In the smoke filled blue skies, shots fired above the orange soldier's head. He ran only eyeing one object on the ground as his goal. He jumped over dead bodies with his eyes shot wide open and heart palpitating. _This is fucking crazy!_ He almost fell from the tremors of a nearby land explosion. Ariel bombardment took place all around him.

"Grif, come back!" shouted his maroon friend. "You are going to get yourself killed!"

"I'm not leaving it behind!" Grif yelled in response as he nearly choked from the shock of a falling plane nearly missing him. He was blown forward by the ground impact. His shield held up strong. _I guess the army does create decent things once in a while_. He stood up to notice the many occupied in an ongoing battle. UNSC soldiers fired, punched and struggled against the extremist Sangheili who still held on to old beliefs that first encouraged the war between them and the humans. Grif narrowly avoided a stray shot from his right. He heard the incoming barrage. Much to his displeasure, he jumped down into a pile of dead bodies that acted as his shield. _Okay, almost there Grif, you can do this. You can make him proud._

He pushed a body off of his back and looked around. "Gamma, I need you here."

"How can I help you Grif?" asked the A.I. fragment in a very monotone voice. Grif looked to his miniature light blue human shaped companion. "I need to get to that weapon over there, tell me when I'm good to make a run for it."

"Understood," Gamma looked around absorbing the information and asked. "May I ask why it is you are risking your life so badly for one weapon?"

"It's precious, that's why."

"I do not understand how a device used for killing can be considered precious."

"It's a human thing," argued Grif keeping a low head. "Do I have a clear route yet?"

"Yes, but only for five seconds at best. Go now."

Grif bolted for his goal in sight. He jumped for the gun so close to his reach. Midair however he felt a force opposing his goals. A tight grip rested on his leg as it swung him down to the ground hard!

He looked up to find a familiar Sangheili with his ever so imposing stare. Grif shuffled backwards as the large figure slowly stomped towards him. With heavy breaths of fear and panic, Grif tried reaching for his sword. Visions of Donut's incident once again haunted him. _Will I end up like him?_ Grif finally managed to grip the sword. _No, I will survive!_

"Grif!" shouted an aqua blue armored soldier. He took out his rifle and opened fire. "Get out of there!"

The orange soldier activated his sword and moved his sword in a piercing motion. Before he could make contact however, he was stopped midway by the enemy who started crushing his arm. Grif lost his grip on the sword and the Sangheili kneed him in the gut. The orange soldier gritted his teeth and cursed his foolish bravery. He crawled to the shotgun and felt his mission to be a partial success. _At least I'm not a complete failure. I will protect this no matter the cost_. Yet that cost may seem closer than he had originally thought. The Sangheili pushed one foot onto Grif's back. There was an audible crack of his muscles with a loud painful scream.

"We have to get him out of there!" said Sister as she nearly abandoned her weapon and ran for Grif only to be stopped short by Simmons. "Use your head, what you are doing is suicide!"

"Yeah, there is another way of getting him back," said Church as he and the other fragments displayed a holographic visual of his plan. Sister pointed to the enemy who raised his hammer weapon that once hanged by his belt. Simmons nearly gasped from the shock. The final blow was about to be delivered with extreme prejudice. The Sangheili stared at his prey and swung the hammer down while scoffing words of insult. "Filthy human!"

* * *

 **A/N: Welcome back old readers and welcome new readers! :)**

 **This will be a new entry in my Red vs. Blue stories following the adventures of the BGC. I hope to make this a more character driven story, mind you it will still be plot driven at some points, so more or less a hybrid. The subject matter will pertain to those relevant to war dramas, more or a survival story, to say the least without giving things away. I will take certain risks and liberties with the characters as well which I'm sure will receive divided opinions, but that will be great for discussion I'm sure as long as it is stated in a respectful manner.**

 **As for the release schedule, chapters will be released whenever a chapter is written, edited and finished. I don't have a set schedule as that just adds unnecessary time pressure. I may also take announced breaks out of the blue to ensure that the passion for the project stays alive.**

 **You may also see recommendations for music here and there to help set the atmosphere that I had in mind when particular scenes.**

 **As a means of feedback, I will also tend to ask questions at the end of chapters here and there. Constructive criticism is always welcomed!**

 **Looking forward to having you stick around! :)**

 **~ Monty**


	2. Get the Man his Body

**Red vs. Blue Season 20**

 **Chapter 1: Get the Man his Body**

In a boxed canyon drenched in heat, where the Blood Gulch Crew remained station for as long as they can remember calling it home, antics took place. On one side of the canyon was blue base, while on the other was red. Two factions created within an artificial simulation to oppose one another all under the pretense of war through the dubious project Freelancer. However, their true purpose was to help train the freelancers to be better soldiers and fighters. They were expendable to the project. Over time though, they began making a name for themselves. They brought down the project with the help of some freelancers who became a part of their group. They fought against the devious plans of O'Malley, the Director, the forces looking to ravage Chorus for greed, the abandoned people of the New Order and the great terror threat that once came close to bringing ruin to the people of America. They had most certainly at this point made a name for themselves. They suffered great losses, numerous injuries, life changing events which would have broken any lone individual, but not them for they fought together as a family.

In the red base, Sarge, the red team leader sat on a stool with tools in both hands. Lopez stood to the side silently observing his master who was busy wiring the electrical components of a new robot body. Sarge motioned towards the toolkit, a silent sign for his Spanish speaking robot companion. "I need a wrench Lopez."

"[Here, would you like for me to give you a good head massage treatment with it while we are at it?]," asked the robot with a sarcastic tone holding out much hope for a yes. Sarge laughed it off quickly becoming serious again. "Lopez you kidder, just get me the wrench."

"[Right, here you go,]" replied Lopez as he handed it to the red leader. "[Don't hurt yourself with it you stupid old man.]"

"That's nice of you to say Lopez. Now that I look at it, the robot body has come along well hasn't it?"

"[I hate it already. I don't want another robot in this dumb canyon. Otherwise I would have competition for my beautiful Sheila.]"

"I can't wait to see the looks on their faces when they see that I can build a robot body in two days like I said I would."

"[They wear helmets, how can you see their faces you dumb old man?]"

"That is a good question Lopez. How do I solve the issue of internal cooling of the parts? Well that's simple my friend."

"[I'm not your friend. I wonder why I'm still here with this retarded unit, someone please end my existence already. Please do it.]"

"I used a simple method of air intake from the vents built subtly on the butt," continued Sarge who pointed to the minor openings. "And from there, there are fans inside that will take the air, cool it and send it to the rest of the body. Then that air exits through the tiny hole in between the buttocks."

Lopez stood speechless at how creepy this new robot was made out to be. He quickly rotated his head to check his backside to find with reassurance that he contained no such alterations. He was built exactly according to the UNSC specifications. Much to his assurance, he was happy knowing he can avoid any embarrassments when he is around Sheila.

* * *

Outside of red base, a pink soldier, Donut, stood in front of a small vegetable patch. He hummed a happy tune while watering his little farmer's patch. _Grow big my pretties so that you may be ready for consumption in a hearty meal_. The medic of the canyon known as Doc, along with his alter ego O'Malley inspected the garden. "Looks to be coming along well Donut."

"That's nice of you to say Doc," clapped Donut in happiness as he sprinkled a bit more water over the potato patch. Doc took a closer look at the carrots and pointed at one nearing the center of the carrot patch. "That one looks especially delicious. What will you be doing with it?"

"Hmm," Donut had put down the watering can to think a moment. "Maybe I will make steamed carrots out of it with some turkey for the upcoming Christmas season."

"That sounds delicious," Doc felt his mouth water at the mere thought of steamed vegetables with turkey for Christmas. O'Malley let out a cackle upon his release from the dark recesses of Doc's mind. "Then we shall gorge ourselves on the flesh of the turkey and its brethrens!"

Donut finished watering the last of the vegetables and stretched his back. He lifted his arms in the air and felt his muscles tighten and loosen much to his pleasure. _Speaking of Christmas season, I wonder what the others would like. I guess it will be my first Christmas ever getting them something after a long while_. He rested the chin of his helmet in his fingers with a thoughtful sigh.

* * *

Inside red base was a solitary maroon soldier named Simmons. He worked on a computer busy staring at a piece of code he wrote while pumped up with caffeine from a night of coffee drinking. His hands jittered on the keyboard as his red eyes scanned each line character by character. _Why won't this bloody thing work?!_ He was quickly becoming frustrated by the compiling errors. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. _Okay, calm down. I have to look at this by breaking down the problem into many smaller problems_. Simmons skimmed the very top error, quickly fixed it, he then went through the list of errors and fixed every one he could find. _Damn semicolons, always screwing me up_. He compiled the code yet again and much to his irritation, while it worked, it behaved unpredictably. Simmons scratched his helmet and threw his arms up in the air. "Arrgh, I give up. Eta, do you have any ideas as to why this shitty code isn't working?"

His A.I. companion simply shrugged its shoulders upon taking one quick look at the stream of text. Simmons leaned forward with a raised eyebrow. "Aren't you supposed to be really smart in these sorts of things?"

Out of fear of disappointing his host with his response, he quickly vanished back into stasis mode. Simmons leaned back smashing his head against the head rest of the chair. "Great, looks like I ended up scaring him. I wonder how long it will be before he decides to speak to me again this time around."

Simmons looked back at the computer monitor and scrolled through the code. He released a self pity laugh. "This is some spot you have found yourself in Simmons. Why did I think to take up this project again? Why was I stupid enough to say that I'm going to pimp out Basebook so that it will be the best social media platform?"

He rested his head in his palms and felt the pressure lessen from the applied force. "I should have just kept my mouth shut to the others about it. Now I will look like a huge jackass if I don't get this done."

"[Ola]," Simmons looked back towards the door where he saw Lopez. The robot walked inside at a brisk pace and noticed the code. He did his best to hold back some laughter. Simmons on the other hand was extremely relieved to see a fellow cyborg being a half one himself. "Good timing Lopez, I could use the help here."

"[What dumb ideas are you executing at the moment?]"

"I can't get this code to work. Can you take a look at it for me?"

Lopez stared at the code for three minutes before having what one could only deduce to be a seizure. "[Such horribly written code with no comments in there, processor cannot handle the incompetence!]"

"I know right, I'm so good with this stuff. So, any ideas on this problem?"

"[Take the computer, unplug it and dunk it in water to end its miserable existence of being forced to work with your code.]"

"Hmm, not sure what you said but good try. How about we try again but in English this time?"

"[Pendajo,]" Lopez left just as quickly as he came for he felt his processor being put at a greater risk. Simmons tilted his head in confusion and shook his shoulders. _What's his problem?_ He turned back to the code and quickly fetched himself another coffee. _I guess I need to take a five minute break. I'm just going to be going in circles with this damn thing otherwise_.

* * *

On the soft and cushy surface of his bed, an orange soldier lied with his eyes shut tight and mind deep in a dream. A loud hard sound echoed through his room originating from the door. His mind still somewhat dazed was brought down to reality. _Who could it be at this time of the day?_ He reached for the edge of the bed and with all his might he lifted himself before hearing the ratcheting sounds of the door handle turn. With a creek, the door swung open and in the frame was a yellow armored soldier. "Hey big bro, I found this cool spot in the canyon, want to go see?"

Grif, the orange soldier wearily sighed at the nuisance threatening his sleeping time. "How the hell would you even find a 'cool' spot in this boring canyon?"

"Hey, don't call it boring. This place is home after all!"

"Yeah, but it's still boring as fuck," Grif loosened his body and felt his muscles relax until they became a floppy mess like jello. He fell to his right on the bed and with a quick motion he turned his back to her. "Don't you have other stuff to be doing, like blue stuff?"

"Nah, Church told me to do whatever I wanted and chill."

"They don't give you work to do?"

"They do, but I guess I was so badass in getting it done so fast that they felt the need to treat me like a badass VIP," Sister crossed her arms, puffed out her chest and smiled arrogantly underneath her helmet. "Looks like I'm not a complete failure after all. Mom would be so proud."

 _Or more like they just wanted to get rid of you_ , Grif pondered the thought as he could only imagine the annoyed tone on Church when he found out for himself of her incompetence. _Still, that was faster than I was expecting._ _Man, this Church is more of a savage than the one from before_. She inched closer as her boots walked with hard footsteps. Grif's eyebrows twitched in great annoyance as he shoved his head in his arms. _Please, no more. Let a man get his rest_. She rested a hand on his shoulder and in a rocky motion she shook him violently. "Come on big bro, we gotta go, we gotta go, we gotta go!"

"Just let me sleep in peace," moaned the orange soldier. "Go check out that stinky spot on your own."

"Fine Mr. Grumpy," Sister crossed her arms, and with a sharp turn she walked away all the while mumbling to herself. "I will check out the cool spot all by myself and I'm not going to tell you what I found."

* * *

On the opposite end of the canyon, stood a similarly constructed base except with blue outlining on the walls. To the right of the base stood a large towering Mantis class droid in front of Caboose and the ex-freelancer, Iowa. The unexplainably strong blue soldier looked at the droid and slowly smiled underneath his helmet. "Sheila, I spy with my little eye something blue."

"Caboose," she replied with confidence. Caboose nearly gasped at hearing his name, and yet also felt a warm tingly feeling arise in his tightening chest. "Yes, that's correct. Call out my name more please, pretty please!"

Iowa looked at his best friend with an uncomfortable stare as he watched Caboose squirm about in happiness. "Caboose, you are starting to freak me out here."

"Ah, I'm sorry. It's just that I get a little excited whenever Sheila is around you know?"

"I know how to diffuse this awkward situation," Iowa lifted a hand with all five fingers stretched outwards. "Five things you want to do right now. Go!"

"Um…talk to Sheila."

"Okay…one."

"Tell her how much I like her."

"…two."

"And then ask her to go out with me!" Caboose's attention shifted from Iowa to the mechanized lady who looked at the blue soldier silently. "I'm sorry Caboose, but that is never happening."

"Aw come on, why not? Is it Lopez, do you love him that much?"

"He is quite the hunk," Sheila spoke in a boisterous voice shocking Caboose. His world nearly froze over and fell apart at the mega rejection. Iowa suddenly felt the awkwardness levels shoot through the sky and into outer space. _I don't think I will ever get used to this creepy romance routine. In the one year I have been here, I have seen some really weird stuff. I'm sure that if Idaho was still alive, he would think the same and maybe laugh it off_.

* * *

In the cold basement of the blue base where prison cells as well as storage were located, an aqua armored soldier, Tucker, stood with his two companions. The AI that was always seemingly on a rhythmic and soothing fire, Sigma, and the master of memory in the group that once made up the original Epsilon known as Church. Tucker rested a hand on the textured and smooth handle of the prophecy fulfilling, alien made sword. He picked up the object with moderate strength only to hear Church snarl. "What, you plan on switching out your swords?"

"No, I planned on measuring mine against this one to see whose is bigger, bow chicka bow wow!"

"Ah, classic Tucker," reminisced the blue AI as he wrapped his hands on his waist. "The sword is still a damn mystery even after all this time."

"It's not like we would have the equipment to pry this thing open and study anyways."

"Gentlemen, may I ask why you would want to consider such a dangerous set of actions?" inquired the orange flaming one. Church pointed with absolute certainty towards the swords. "If we know what they are made of, we can try and produce more."

"That and if I can get another one of these bad boys, I can be a walking badasss for the ladies!"

"Always with the noble reasons eh Tucker?" asked Church with a rather sarcastic tone. Sigma burst into an explosion of flames beside Tucker's ear piece as he slowly formed an outline, and then with his direct link into the system, he displayed several familiar faces. "I have received a broadcast addressed to everyone in the canyon."

Tucker ran up stairs step by step, and soon found himself before a large computer responsible for generating a great amount of unwelcomed heat in this already hot canyon. An orange haired woman and a pale skinned man sat together on a leather lined couch. Their surroundings were busy with the bustling noises of people and specifically little kids. In both their hands were two small tykes, the products of their love. David waved with a smile stretching one cheek to the other. "Hey guys, it has been a while since we contacted you. I got some good news."

He looked down towards the curious faces of his two children and gently smothered their bald heads. Carolina by his side helped do her best to keep the kids from moving about too much. She held their daughter high up in the air as she squealed happily. Their son tugged at his father's sleeves for the same. David laughed and lifted his son in the air where he also smiled and laughed happily. "As you guys can see, in the one year since our retirement from the UNSC, we have been quite busy parenting these little monsters."

Carolina pinched his ear playfully. "Don't call them monsters."

"Owie, sorry," explained David while rubbing his ear helplessly like a child under punishment. Carolina leaned forward towards the camera. Her beauty was still radiant as ever, if not more so since they last saw her. David looked back to the lens while patting his son's head. "I want you guys to meet these two. This is our son, Leonard and our daughter, Connie."

"The family is expanding," Carolina said while playing with her daughter's tiny and soft hands. Church hovered closer with an arm stretched out towards the monitor as he stared intently at his previous partner. "That it is. That it is sis."

"Speaking of family," David interjected and pointed towards the camera. "You guys need to come down for a vacation here. You won't believe the view we get here sometimes. Business is booming so you can expect some nice accommodations as our guest. Plus, I'm sure Tucker will enjoy the different kinds of views he can get on the beach."

"He knows me so well," Tucker mused with a perverted smirk underneath the helmet. Church laughed at the submission with a quip of his own. "It's nice to see you being honest for once."

"Oh I'm always honest, especially with a good _friend_ of mine."

"Keep those details to yourself bucko," Church immediately shot back holding up his hands in apprehension. Sigma appeared like a spreading wildfire and soon constructed his visual form. "I would be inclined to agree with Epsilon. I for one do not wish to hear any details of that friend of yours."

"But you two are thinking about it," Tucker laughed hysterically. "Looks like I'm not the only pervert around these parts of the canyon."

Tucker continued the video only to be met with a conclusive scene in which David and Carolina made it clear that they wished for their good health and to hopefully experience a reunion. Tucker minimized the video. "We will need to show it to others some time."

"I'm sure they will be happy to see it," Church saved the video to a special folder on the computer before hearing a loud, ear piercing noise echo from the canyon.

"Attention blue-tards, I mean blue solders," it was Sarge. "I would like for you all to gather in the center of the canyon for an important meeting."

 _Important meeting?_ Tucker wondered as he stepped outside to see the reds with an extra body in their midst. Church suddenly materialized pixel by pixel to the sound of happiness. "That must be my new body."

"Woohoo, party time!" shouted Caboose as he ran alongside Iowa. "Yeah, party time!"

* * *

 **A/N: We start off in a pretty typical manner for a RvB story. But with this the adventures have finally kicked off. How did you guys find that first chapter to be? I realize its nothing special, but I hope you enjoyed the little tid bits of what happened with Wash and Carolina near the end.**

 **Constructive feedback is always welcomed!**

 **~ Monty**


	3. Just the Right Size

**Chapter 2: Just the Right Size**

In the middle of a canyon shaded in the vermillion colors of a setting sun, the BGC all stood around a still metallic body. Church hovered around the body with a trail of intrigue left behind in his close study of the creation inch by inch. Sarge stood proudly and eagerly waited for the rain of compliments. Tucker rubbed the chin piece of his helmet with a nod at the fine piece of work. "Well, I will be damned. You actually did it Sarge."

"Of course I did," Sarge shouted with a hoarse yet happy voice. "When Sarge says he will do something, you better god damn believe he will do it, hoorah!"

"Amen to that," noted Simmons keeping in the shadows behind his other colleagues. Caboose jumped with his hand high up. "Ah, Simmons, how is that Basebook project coming along? I can't wait to start using it!"

"Eh…um…"

"Oh yes, please share with the rest of us. This should be good," Tucker added fuel to the fire as Simmons threw up a middle finger. Church clapped his hands with great force silencing everyone around him. "Can it you all. It's time to get this show on the road."

* * *

Every AI fragment made an appearance curious to witness this event. Church studied the AI slot in the suit that was directly linked to the functions of the body. He looked back suddenly feeling self conscious from the stares. "Can I get a little privacy here?"

"Oh come on, really?" Grif inquired shocked to hear the words. "You are not getting naked or anything you know."

"Hey man, changing bodies is like changing clothes for me."

"Fine, whatever," Grif as well as the others turned around to give him his privacy. They heard the ratchets and gears sound off behind them. They all peeked back and saw the robotic body move without restraints, almost as though it was a human underneath that armor rather than a metal body. Tucker watched his friend slowly walk around to get a better feel for the body. "How do you feel?"

"Weird."

"Weird?"

"Yeah, I feel weird. Other versions of me may have had a body, but I never had one to begin with," Church looked down at his crotch and motioned for Tucker to come closer. "Quickly, check if there is a bomb down below here."

Tucker followed the finger until he came across the crotch and immediately shook his head. "Hey, I already had my go once. Ask someone else."

"Oh come on, you know I can't ask Caboose or Iowa to do this."

"Ask one of the reds then."

"Oh, ask me, ask me!" exclaimed Donut jumping up and down with his arms high up in the air. "I bet I can examine you real good!"

Church looked from one red soldier to the next. "Nope, Tucker you do it right now!"

"Come on. Quit asking me to do this gay crap."

"Psst, Caboose," Grif inched closer to the blue soldier. "Be sure to film this and post it up on the internet."

"I will post it on Basebook!"

"Ooh, I will be sure to give you a ton of likes!" Donut squealed in excitement as he eyed Simmons. The maroon one simply backed away further out of sight under the enormous pressure. _Just breathe in Simmons, it will be all alright. No pressure, no pressure at all_. Tucker reluctantly crouched down to the crotch level of Church's body. He took in a deep disgusted breath and sighed with misery. "Let's just get this over with."

Tucker looked at the plating and sat still for a moment. "So what am I supposed to do here?"

"Remove the plating first," suggested Sarge who took a closer look. A red flag went off in Tucker's head. "For that…I will need to use my hands to touch him there, won't I?"

"Duh, how else would you do it?" retorted the red leader. Tucker could feel the coming storm of non-stop teasing. _Great, here I come gay mode_. He slowly removed the exterior crotch armor plate much to the amusement of the others. Tucker took a close look at the internal workings of the robot. "This is some crazy setup you made in here Sarge."

"[Agreed, he didn't even bother following the manual thinking that his stupid old head is smarter than how the robot is supposed to be built.]"

"English dude," Tucker said in response to a slur of words beyond his comprehension. Tucker suddenly fell backwards as he saw orange flashes of spark escape the crotch. "What was that? Is it supposed to spark like that?"

"Well you see," Sarge attempted to explain the anomaly as he shifted a little in his spot. "That is because I had to use some spare parts lying around that may or may not have been rusted."

"So my bits are rusted, that's real great."

"Not like you need that area anyways," laughed Tucker. "Me on the other hand, I'm always ready for the ladies."

"Yeah, like the non-existent ones you can find basically everywhere in the canyon except for Sister, right?" jabbed Church earning an irritated stare from his comrade. "Consider us even for that remark of yours earlier."

"Although Private Tucker is not wrong Epsilon," Delta noted as his form took shape with dark green glow all around him. "We do not have need for such functionalities after all."

"Thanks for the encouraging words Delta," Church sarcastically quipped in response. "Well Tucker, anything that looks like a bomb?"

"Nope, can I get up now?"

"See, I told you that I didn't try to pull any stunts like that. But you blues always gotta be the paranoid ones right?"

"Let's not go into the territory of paranoia," Tucker suggested. "It triggers Church off for some odd reason."

"Hey, I have my reasons. Paranoia is a legit thing okay, all the times I believed project Freelancer to be utter shit bags turned out to be true. Were it not for the paranoia, we would have still been fighting on the usual run of the mill missions."

"I personally would have been happier," Grif spoke up from the crowd much to the surprise of those around him. "Things were simpler back then. I just did what I was told to do in a simple rigged fight. I didn't have to worry about getting mixed up in some crazy plot every year or so."

"Those were fun," Caboose said with a carefree smile to which Iowa agreed remembering his simple yet happy times back on the ice planet. "Yeah, except for when things went wrong…really wrong."

"Wow, wait a go bring down the mood," Sister scoffed turning around while shaking her behind and walking away. Doc gently patted the ex-Freelancer's back and motioned towards the cave by the side of the canyon. "Don't let her words get you down Iowa. If you ever want to talk, let's set up a time for a session together."

"Sarge!" Theta rolled on his skateboard from Sarge's back into his view as he pointed to red base. "There is a message waiting for you from headquarters."

"Thanks for letting me know Theta."

"You are welcome!"

Sarge looked at the rest and pointed to the red base. "If there are any issues with the new body, come see me at the base."

As the red leader disappeared over the land line, Church fixed his crotch and took out a pistol. "How about you guys help me test out this new body?"

"What do you have in mind?" inquired the aqua soldier. Church took a pistol from his comrades, and reloaded it. "Let's play a game of capture the flag."

"You do know we are terrible at that game right?" Grif stepped forth reminding him of all their failures with the game. Tucker laughed and noted. "More than half of those was only when the reds lost. Blue team kicked ass!"

* * *

Inside of the red base, Sarge stood in front of the team computer and navigated to the latest communications. Theta popped up pointing excitedly to the screen and noted. "There it is, there it is Sarge!"

The man played the communication and quickly realized the meaning behind the file. "No rest for the wicked I suppose."

"Are you sure Sarge?" asked his miniature companion. "I thought you didn't want to leave the canyon ever again."

"Duty calls Theta," Sarge answered with a stern and studious voice. "Sometimes, you just have to do things without thinking too much on it."

"But if you do, do you think you and the others will be happy with the outcome?"

"No idea," confessed the elder man as he crossed his arms and gently breathed out. "I don't know why it is we got this message, I don't know what they are planning, and I absolutely don't know what the outcome will be."

Sarge looked over to Simmons' workspace where the code laid bare. He studied the interface designs, all the documents containing specifications and a clear set of strategies to achieve the end product. _This is very well organized. Simmons has always had a knack for this sort of stuff_. Sarge left the area in a brisk walk with Theta following behind him on his skateboard.

* * *

Sarge approached the bickering gang in the middle of the canyon. "What is going on here? I am pretty sure I could hear you lot from all the way inside of the base."

"We just want to test out my body," Church explained in an irritated tone. "But your dumbass reds here don't want to be good sport about playing a game of capture the flag."

"Hey, I don't want to go through the girls and kisses routine again okay, fuck that shit!" Grif shouted in retaliation. Sarge considered the two arguments and almost as if deep in thought, he made a quick decision. "You guys go play the game of capture the flag."

"Wait, what?" Simmons clearly shocked asked if Sarge was feeling alright. Sarge raised a thumb up to one of his most trusted and capable soldiers. "Don't you worry Simmons, I'm dandy."

"But sir, that means you might end up going through _that_ embarrassment in the end when we try to get our flag back."

"Oh that wouldn't happen."

"What makes you say that?" Grif asked. "You do know how crap we are at capture the flag right?"

"Yeah, but it's not like I will be here anyways," Sarge explained shaking his shoulders. He motioned towards Simmons and said. "I got summoned by the UNSC headquarters in our space region to discuss an important matter. Simmons, I will leave you in charge of red team for the game."

"L- l- l- leave me in charge?!"

"Don't worry. I know you can do it."

"Based on what evidence?" asked Grif extremely skeptical of the decision. _Great, now we are guaranteed to embarrass ourselves_. Sarge cracked out his shotgun, and pulled on the handle underneath the barrel. "Based on my intuition, any objections?"

"Nope, all good here, I'm doing dandy, what a great decision you have made Sarge. I'm so glad you are our leader, golly!"

Simmons smirked underneath the helmet. "Kiss ass."

"It's better than being a nerd."

"Being a nerd is better than being a lazy slob," remarked Simmons with a victorious smile as he heard his friend stutter to find a reply. Sarge stepped in between the two. "Alright, that's enough. Simmons takes the lead and that's final."

"I'm not too sure about this sir," Simmons raised some concerns inching closer to Sarge. "I have never led anyone other than those on Chorus before."

"And you did fine there."

"Only because we had Kimball, Washington and Carolina with us at the time."

"Then consider this practice with no serious consequences attached," Sarge answered quickly in the hopes of stamping out whatever doubts that may cloud Simmons' mind. "Everyone has to start somewhere Simmons."

* * *

"Yes sir," the maroon soldier finally gave up his protest and motioned for his team to follow him. The blues went to their side as the game would start in the agreed time fast approaching in about thirty minutes. Sarge waited patiently on the specified spot by the message as he looked at the two bases working to cover every opening and blind spot that they could use against one another.

Fifteen minutes into the waiting, they all heard a loud thunderous noise pierce through the atmosphere. From the clouds, a Pelican descended to a smooth stop in the canyon. Simmons looked from afar and so did the others in intrigue. A UNSC officer exited the ship and shook Sarge's hand. They were too far away to listen in on their conversation. The officer happily greeted Sarge as he motioned for the soldier to board their transport. The rear doors closed and just as quickly as the ship had landed, it left. Just like that, they were hidden behind the clouds.

As the thirty minutes neared their end, Church raised a pistol in the air and fired off a lone shot marking the beginning of their friendly war.

* * *

 **A/N: What did you think of that chapter, and what do you think happens when Sarge gets to the headquarters of the UNSC?**

 **Thank you for your continued support.**

 **~ Monty**


	4. Failure

**Chapter 3: Failure**

Simmons stared at the clock on his computer as he nervously waited for their duel to start. "So how do you guys want to do this?"

"You are the leader," stated Grif as he crossed is arms questioning his friend's ability to lead. "You decide, that is what you are here for after all."

"R- Right…"

"Don't sweat it too much Simmons," Donut gently patted the maroon soldier on the back with a thumb up. "We will be here to fully support you. No matter what, double O Donut will always be on the case!"

"Yeah, I will be there along the way to guys, with my trusty scalpel ready to fix you all up!" Doc noted excited at the rising energy in the air. Grif took a cautious step backwards as his lower half shook. "Um, why would you have a scalpel?"

"Why my dear Grif," O'Malley made his entrance. "To slice away the piece of the body that I can't heal with my methods. That way you won't be injured anymore after I cauterize the area and stop the bleeding. Problem solved! Mwha ha ha ha!"

"No problem solved!" shouted Grif as he backed away behind a desk as if to find some security in the object. O'Malley felt the mischief within him dance in his mind as he flipped the scalpel around in his hand and slowly approached the orange one with a devious laugh.

"Yeah, let's kick their ass!"

The men froze upon hearing a familiar, womanly voice. They all turned to look at the doorway from which the voice originated. Grif nearly tripped over his own surprise. "Sister?! What are you doing here?"

"Yeah, shouldn't you be with the blues right now?" asked Doc as he retreated the dangerous device in his hand. Sister waved her hip around as she walked into the room much to Grif's displeasure. "They said something about evening out the teams."

 _So they just wanted to get rid of her_ , thought every man in the room. They considered her skill sets and lowered their heads with a sigh. _Blue team, what a bunch of dicks for sending her our way_. Simmons shook his head clear of such thoughts and approached the map. He eyed the time. Twenty minutes were left before their match began. "Eta, I need you out here."

The AI fragment formed behind him and shyly looked out at the gazing eyes. The fragment hid behind Simmons who moved out of the way and encouraged his partner to step out into the lime light. Simmons took the chance to explain the battle plan he had formulated as Eta made efforts to help his host on the holographic map displaying on the projector built by Simmons in his spare time over the last year. "I'll only explain this once so listen closely."

Simmons moved his finger along a route in the canyon. Eta did his best to keep up with the movement and highlighted the proper path. "We will split off into two teams. One team will be in charge of drawing their fire while the other will act under the radar. The team in charge of combating the blues is to ensure that all attention remains on them no matter what. The stealth team should be given enough time to get in, capture the flag and get out."

"What about Sheila?" Doc posed the question as he looked outwards. "She isn't going to be just sitting this one out. They are bound to get her help seeing as how it would be a huge advantage."

"Good point," Simmons noted as he motioned towards a crate he had prepared earlier. "You guys take three EMP grenades each. They are to be used only against Sheila."

"But won't that knock out our systems as well?" Donut wondered as he readied his trusty throwing arm. Simmons nodded his head with certainty. "Unfortunately it will, but we can still fight as long as we are careful. Plus remember, we are using fake training bullets. So don't worry about getting injured. The worst they can do is leave a bruise for a couple of days."

"Uhm, I prefer to be bruise free thank you," complained the yellow one as she placed a hand on her waist and leaned to one side. Grif tapped his foot on the ground impatiently as he felt a nerve pop out on his forehead. "Then why don't you stay back and watch over the base?"

"Sweet, now I have two bases. That means more room for admissions to my rave parties. Score!"

"You can't be serious Grif," Simmons shook his head and pointed to the blue base. "We need every person we can get for this operation. If we want for our plan to succeed, I need everyone on the offensive."

"Don't worry, it's not like she will be of much use out there anyways," he replied in a whisper while taking Simmons by the neck in one arm. "At least here she can guard the flag. She will be contributing in some manner."

Simmons gave up with a sigh and finally agreed to Grif's choice. "Does anyone have any other questions regarding this strategy?"

"What do we do if things go South fast?" Doc inquired. Simmons crossed his arms in front of his chest and took in a huge puffy breath. "Well, I hope it won't come to that. Honestly, I never got that far in my planning."

"Wait, we still have fifteen minutes left."

"I don't work well under pressure alright?!" Simmons answered with an angry shake of his fist. "Just hope that no one screws up and this all goes swimmingly. Are there any other questions that I can actually answer?"

Simmons studied his comrades and finally after some brief silence, he opted to call their plans finalized. They all heard a loud thunderous noise pierce through the atmosphere. From the clouds, a Pelican descended to a smooth stop in the canyon. Donut looked out the base window and called for Simmons. "Look, the person in charge of picking Sarge up is finally here."

Simmons looked from afar and so did the others in intrigue. A UNSC officer exited the ship and shook Sarge's hand. They were too far away to listen in on their conversation. The officer happily greeted Sarge as he motioned for the soldier to board their transport. The rear doors closed and just as quickly as the ship had landed, it left. Just like that, they were hidden behind the clouds.

* * *

The fifteen minutes were now over and with it so was the time to plan. Church raised a pistol in the air and fired off a lone shot marking the beginning of their friendly war. Everyone ran out of the base and to their assigned positions. Church motioned for his comrades to take up arms and defend their flag with every ounce of their strength. Simmons, Lopez and Grif acted as the decoys as they ran to one side of the canyon atop the side path while Doc and Donut acted as the stealth team.

As so accurately predicted by Simmons, Sheila stood at the forefront of their assault in front of their base. She alongside Tucker and Church marched their way towards red base. _I guess they had the same idea as us_. Simmons raised his gun and opened fire on the blue's assault team.

"Scatter!" Church shouted as he jumped behind a rock. Sheila aimed her arms and opened fire with non-lethal shots. The reds took cover as well while Lopez stood bravely in the face of fire. "[Sheila, it's me baby, don't fire.]"

"Bean daddy?"

"[Yes my honey bunny]."

"What am I watching here?" Tucker watched as his stomach acted up in disgust. Grif held his mouth piece with heaviness rising from his abdomen. "I think I am going to physically throw up at this corny romance routine."

"This works out in our favor," noted Simmons as he focused his fire on Tucker who stood out in the open flabbergasted by the act between the two robots. With expertly placed shots, Simmons eliminated one of the threats as Tucker stored his gun, raised his arms in the air and walked away from the battlefield. _Wait a go Tucker_ , Church pondered with great irritation. He stuck the barrel out from the side of the rock and fired upon his enemies hitting Lopez. The robot stood still upon slowly realizing what just happened. "[Fuck, I'm sorry my honey but we won't get to talk anymore for now]."

"No, don't leave bean daddy!"

"[Don't worry my love, I shall return]," and with those words of determination, the lone robot walked off with his head low in the shame of defeat. Simmons watched his fellow robot walk off with a blank expression, clearly unimpressed at the macho act Lopez did his best to put on for Sheila's sake. _That brings us down a man, but it's still one versus two_. He motioned Grif's attention towards himself. "We can do this Grif."

* * *

Inside blue base, Iowa and Caboose stared at the flag with intense concentration. Caboose nudged his friend and asked. "Isn't the flag so pretty?"

Iowa looked at the cloth and eagerly nodded his head. "It's so majestically floppy."

"I guess you can say floppy," Caboose spoke with some hesitance in his voice. "But personally I would say more like breezy."

"You could say that to…quick, five words you would use to describe this flag."

"Hmm, let's see…awesome, breezy, beautiful, majestic and god."

"God? I didn't know you idolized the flag that much Caboose."

"One of the guys from Battle Creek taught it to me before," Caboose spoke as if in a trance. "They opened my eyes to the beauty of the flag."

"Okay…what do you plan on doing for Christmas?"

"I plan on eating a whole lot of dinosaur eggs!"

"I don't think they exist."

"What? But Church said I could have an all day buffet with them."

"Sneaking, sneaking, sneaking," Donut mumbled as he stepped foot into blue base. The two blues became alert and looked in the general direction of the voice. Doc followed closely constantly worried and asking Donut to keep it down. "Don't worry Doc. This is double O Donut we are talking about. There is no way we would get caught."

"Hands up!" Iowa shouted and Donut instantly complied throwing down his weapon. _What was that you were just saying double O Donut?_ Doc pondered now feeling stupid himself for believing him in the first place. Caboose walked in on the commotion and gently nudged Iowa to step aside. "Captain Cinnamon Buns, what are you doing here? Ah, are you here to steal our flag?"

"Double O Donut does not talk to the enemy. He will never give up what he knows!"

"Then I guess I won't share this delicious Christmas cookie," noted Caboose as he pulled one out from one of his pouches and greedily waved it around. _Cookie?_ Donut's ears perked up like a dog's. He suddenly found himself in a battle of wills, to stand strong against the temptation. Caboose rubbed a bit of the icing from the cookie off, gently slithered his finger underneath the helmet and licked it clean. "Hmm, yummy. It's so sad that I can't give you any Captain Cinnamon Buns. If only you were willing to tell me why you were here, then I would gladly give you a whole plate full of cookies and a glass of orange juice."

 _A whole plate of c- c- cookies and orange juice?!_ Donut felt as if a hammer hit that concrete wall of will hard creating a large and a deep crack. No, must fight the urge. Doc looked back and forth and raised a hand. "May I please have a cookie?"

"Sure," said Iowa as he gladly handed him one. "Merry Christmas!"

"Goody I love this time of the year!" Doc claimed as he happily ate it. "Merry Christmas to you all as well."

 _All I have to do is ask?_ Donut pondered the simple yet difficult action considering their situation. "Caboose, may I have a cookie?"

Caboose looked back and forth from the soldier to the cookie, and as if in a deliberate act of cruelty, he quickly took the snack and munched it down. Donut was left visibly broken to the point his whole armor could have been confused for the color gray. Donut fell to his knees as he mumbled. "We were here to steal your flag…"

"See, that wasn't so hard," Caboose noted with Delta forming beside his host. "That was quite a cruel manner of investigation Caboose. Where did you learn it?"

"Church taught it to me. He taught me all sorts of things in my sleep."

"Strange, I never noticed Epsilon sharing the storage unit in this suit with me. He must have been careful to cover his tracks well. This requires further study and careful analysis of the memory sectors of the suit."

Caboose took his rifle and shot the two in their back left shoulder plate. He gladly offered a full plate of cookies now to his pink friend. Doc sighed with the heavy sense of defeat and frustration at the little control he had over the situation. He radioed Simmons. "Sorry but things didn't go well on our end. Both Donut and I are out of the game."

* * *

"What?!"

"Okay, I surrender," Grif threw his weapon upon hearing the news. Simmons looked even more shocked now. "What are you doing?!"

"I'm going back to bed," replied the orange soldier as he left their spot taking pot shots from Church. Simmons quickly felt his grasp slipping on the situation he once understood so well. These new factors shook his strong footing into a sea of uncertainty. Simmons threw an EMP grenade which managed to temporarily deactivate Sheila and fired a three round burst at her. _So it's two against three…this is the worst possibly situation we could have put ourselves in. I might have to rely on Sister now_. He reached for his helmet's radio. "Sister, can you hear me?"

"So I'm left with Iowa and Caboose now," Church pondered as he took a moment to rest behind his cover. "Still, that's more than the reds. If we can take out Simmons, Sister won't be a problem. Plus she is technically a blue so I can use that against her."

"Hey you dirty blues!" Sister screamed like a raging mad queen as she exited red base. "I heard what you planned on doing you bastards!"

 _Oh_ _great, what now?_ Church poked his head out only to see her rushing towards him like a rampaging bull. Sister left behind visible footprints in the hard ground as she lessened the distance between Church and herself. "I will not let you cancel my rave nights!"

Church looked from the gullible woman to the maroon soldier who looked away in ignorance. _Simmons you sly bastard_ , Church thought as he quickly took aim and opened fire. To his astonishment, she dodged every bullet. She lunged at Church ready to tear off his head if she needed to in order to keep her nightly events going. Church took out a pistol and managed to hit her in the abdomen just as she forced him down and raised a punch. Simmons once again sighed with frustration as he looked back to the outcome. _Well that was anti-climactic. I was hoping she would last longer_. He hurried inside the blue base and opened fire upon seeing the enemy. With expert placement, he got both Iowa and Caboose. Both the flags were wide open for the taking. Church rushed into red base and to their flag. _If you think you are the only ones who will get the flag, then you are mistaken_.

The two soldiers met halfway in the canyon with guns trained on one another. Both of them took wary steps around one another. One wrong move and it would be the other teams' victory. Simmons rested his finger against the trigger. Church could tell that Simmons' heartbeat was higher than usual. _That's no good Simmons, you won't win like that_. Church further raised his gun aimed for Simmons' head. The maroon soldier backed away a little at the fearful prospect of seeing down the barrel of a gun as he awaits his doom. "Careful where you point that thing Church, someone could get hurt."

"Maybe that is the point," answered the blue leader as he tried getting behind Simmons, but the maroon one followed his movements closely. Simmons pulled on the trigger, Church ducked out of the way and before any of his shots in retaliation could hit, Simmons jumped out of the way towards a nearby large rock. Church checked the shots left in the cartridge. He slowly walked towards the cover as Simmons took in a deep breath. _Count to five, breathe in. Count to five and then breathe out_. He twisted out from behind the rock, but before he could do anything a bullet hit his visor and knocked him back. Church took the blue flag and raised the two into the air proclaiming victory. "Better luck next time Simmons."

* * *

In space, a lone UNSC station maintained position amongst the stars. In a dimly lit gray meeting room, men and women of different backgrounds, positions and beliefs discussed the latest policy changes with Sarge. As he heard more and more, he grew frustrated at the lack of consideration for what he had to say on the matter as his concerns and protests were simply waived away by their two faced words. It was a room full of venomous politics waiting to strike him when he lowers his defenses under their guise of trustworthiness and care. As the snakes finished their part in the meeting, Sarge stood firmly in the face of their piercing gazes. "Do you really think my men will just accept this?"

"It doesn't matter if they choose not to," explained one of the corporal generals. "This is a mandatory policy. What you feel or believe does not matter. What matters is that the will of the military is carried out by all of our soldiers accordingly."

"The others couldn't have possibly accepted it!"

"They have already agreed to it seeing as how there is no other option," replied another military official. "They were smart. Do not play the jester here Sarge. You and your men are capable as unconventional you all may seem as soldiers. There are several others in the reds and the blues that possess this capability and hence we cannot pass this up. Either you conform or we strip you of your position and discharge you with dishonorable mentions. That of course applies to your men as well. How far do you think you will get in the world with such a stain on your records?"

 _You bastards_ , Sarge balled his fists but kept his anger in check. Another official leaned forward with a most stern look on his face. "Consider the situation wisely Sarge. Set aside your feelings on the matter as they matter not. Only consider the rationality behind the situation we explained to you. We are in desperate need and so we have had to take this step. If we are to defeat our foes, we will need to sometimes set aside our humanity in favor of such decisions to help the effort."

"Yeah," Sarge turned towards the door as a young soldier opened it for him. "You keep on telling yourself that while you give orders from your comfy chair as we go out there to fight in the unforgiving battlefields."

"Do not question my authority soldier!" the same official replied as stood up with exposed anger in his eyes. "I have paid my fair due. I fought on the front lines, I know the hardships and I will not be lectured by a failed army from the Freelancer project!"

Sarge took his leave without uttering another word. The young soldier kept his head low in awkwardness and guided Sarge to the ship that transported him to the base.

* * *

In Blood Gulch Canyon, Simmons sat in red base staring at the computer screen in ponder. _The plan was perfect. I revised it many times before explaining it to others. Yet we still failed. It was a combination of many things, unforeseen events like Grif giving up and my own inability to deal with things on the spot. That's right; I am incompetent when it comes to reacting under pressure._ Simmons reached out for his water bottle and rubbed it against his forehead. The chilly water sent comfortable shivers down his face and body. _If this had been an actual war situation, then we wouldn't be sitting here laughing it off like we can right now. Instead some of us might be on the stretcher right now._ Simmons gritted his teeth in frustration. Why _am I so helpless under pressure?!_

Grif watched his friend from afar who was clearly in a cycle of self loathing and uncertainty. _I guess I was a dick by just giving up and walking off. Maybe I should apologize_. Grif thought back to Simmons' ability as a leader. _But it looks like I was right, to some extent that is. He created a great plan, but when it came time to changing it on the spot, he froze and made some bad judgements_. Donut and Doc entered the scene as they did their best to cheer Simmons up. Grif smirked with the shake of his head. _I guess I might have been worrying for nothing. With these two here, he will be fine_.

Simmons looked up at his two comrades and smiled happily at their efforts towards him. _I need to try harder and be better. So if we are ever put in a situation where I need to take charge, I want to be able to bring them back home smiling. I will become a better leader_.

* * *

 **A/N: How was that for the first action packed chapter?**

 **What do you think about some of the characterization in this chapter?**

 **What do you think of the bits regarding Simmons in particular?**

 **I hope the scene with Sarge helps raise some curiosity in you guys.**

 **Respectful and constructive feedback is appreciated!**

 **Thank you for taking the time to read the chapter and support with your readership!**

 **~ Monty**


	5. Drafted

**Chapter 4: Drafted**

The whole crew stood together under the brilliance of the white and pure moonlight. They heard the skies scream in a deep thunder as the clouds parted. From within came the USNC ship that once took Sarge away. The red leader looked from inside the seating area at his comrades and lowered his head in shame. Perhaps for the first time ever in his history serving the red army, he cursed his status for he did not want to be the bearer of the news he brought home. The landing gears extended as the ship neared ground. Everyone rushed towards its rest and watched the back door open. Sarge stood up to the welcome of his comrades. He reached for his shotgun and wearily attached it to his back. _There is no place like home_. He shook the young officer's hand who acted as his escort throughout his journey and departed to touch the familiar land. Every member of the canyon watched in anticipation as the ship left and waited to hear the news Sarge brought them. Sarge pushed past the crowding bunch around him and stretched his shoulders. "Can I get a minute or two to myself first?"

"Uh, sure," Simmons led the reds back to their base. Over the radio Sarge broadcasted to everyone in Blood Gulch. "We will hold a meeting in five minutes in red base to discuss what went down and the news I bring."

Sarge leaned in closer to Simmons as they approached the base. "How did the capture the flag match go Simmons?"

The maroon soldier lowered his head in shame. It was an action strong enough for Sarge to pity their defeat. "What happened?"

"Sorry sir, but I crumbled under the pressure."

"It's not his fault completely," Grif admitted as he raised a hand in shame. "I may have given up halfway through without telling him about it beforehand."

As soon as he heard the crackle of Sarge's shotgun, he legged it for the base. Donut and Doc clapped their hands in celebration. "Simmons did his best. I think it's better than what we would have been able to do."

"But not good enough," Simmons retaliated finding more weaknesses in his strategy to criticize. He stopped to look up at the entrance for red base with his hands balling into fists. "Sarge, can you train me to be a better leader?"

"It's not the training that you need Simmons," Sarge stepped inside as he felt relief to be in his own base. "You already have all the skill that you would ever need to possess to successfully lead a capable team."

"Then what is it that I need?"

"Figure that out for yourself," replied the elderly one much to Simmons' chagrin. "There are times where we need to figure things out for ourselves Simmons. Plus, all of us won't always be here, so we need to think things through and make up for our shortcomings on our own."

 _I guess that's as good a response I'm going to get out of him_ , pondered the maroon one as he sat down at his workstation and watched the red leader stride along to his own room. Simmons looked down to his own hands as he flexed his fingers in uncertainty. _What is this something that I'm missing? Something that I need_. Simmons rested his forehead in his hands with a sigh of fatigue. _What one needs to lead effectively is charisma, confidence and the ability to be level headed even under pressure. By that definition, I'm missing a whole lot of things, especially the charisma_.

Grif approached Simmons from the back and gently tapped his friend on the shoulder. "Hey."

"Don't sneak up behind me like that," Simmons annoyed at the surprise motioned towards the base fridge. "If you pull something like that again, guess who will be missing their pudding?"

"Got it," Grif answered with his hands together begging for his forgiveness. "Anyways, I'm sorry for the stunt I pulled off before on you during the game."

"That," Simmons stood up slowly inching towards the orange one. With Grif's back finally touching the wall, Simmons slammed his hand to the side of Grif's head. "Do you know how badly that cost us the game?"

"I understand that, so I'm sorry."

"Do you really?" Simmons questioned tightly wrapping his arms together on his chest. "Grif, your laziness and sometimes inability to work in a team has been more troublesome than it's worth at times of stressful combat situations."

"W- What are you getting at here?!"

"Nothing," Simmons once again took his seat and faced the computer. "I just wanted to let you know what was on my mind. Sorry if I came off too harsh."

Grif stood still at the silence he was faced with now simply staring at Simmons' back. His impulses told him to talk back with a rebuttal, but his mind agreed to the truth behind his friend's words. Grif looked away while rubbing his palm on the back of his neck with an irritated expression. _I hate it when he is pin point correct on the mark. Dammit, why am I like this?!_ Grif turned to leave in a complete sense of guilt. _Great, I feel worse than when I came here. So much for the saying that confessing lightens the load off of one's chest_.

* * *

Five restful minutes later, the whole gang stood around the red base's holographic table. Sarge inserted a data stick into the slot by the sides. Several windows of policy changes as well as images of a barren wasteland popped up. Sarge untangled his arms from the front of his chest and pointed to one of the policy windows. "Unfortunately I didn't want to tell you guys this, but you all deserve to know and make your decisions appropriately. There has been a massive policy that affects everyone in the military."

Simmons caught on quick having quickly read and processed the information. Sarge proceeded to explain their situation. "We have all effectively been drafted by the UNSC to go to war against the alien species that Tucker's freakish kid is from."

"Hey, Junior is cool!" Tucker waved his fist in the air angrily. Sarge looked up from the board to the others. "Now for the consequences, as much as I would have loved to say that there were none, unfortunately those against their new authority could be tried and jailed for life depending on how we react, either that or discharged from duty dishonorably."

"That's not much of a choice…," Donut contributed nervously shaking his legs. The others agreed calling this an outrage. Simmons helped to calm the anger of the many and asked. "Sir, what is their reason for taking such…extreme actions?"

"They probably did it because they are seriously lacking in man power in the ongoing war against the extremist Sangheilians. The war has been going on for years now ever since the defeat of their previous order," Church explained as he behind the visor browsed the relevant information. The others astonished at the stream of knowledge inquired. "How do you know this stuff?"

"Easy, I just hacked the mainframe."

"You did what?!" Tucker nearly tripping in surprise felt a heavy and unnerving feeling in his chest. "When did you do that?!"

"When you were asleep. You think I would just wait around for you to wake up? No thanks."

 _No wonder I felt those headaches in my sleep, Mr. Geek over here was busy hacking the UNSC mainframe_. Tucker held his visor and shook his head in disbelief. "Why did you do it?"

"For shits and giggles. I wanted to see how weak their security is. Man, it was really simple to get into their systems to, kind of disappointed actually."

"Guys, I feel we are drifting here," Doc looked towards Sarge and asked for him to continue with the news he brought. "As Donut already put it, there isn't much of a choice here. We have been given four days until a ship comes to pick us up."

"Pick us up? Fuck that," Grif turned to leave but was quickly stopped by Simmons who gave an intense stare through the visor. "So you are going to run away again?"

"Get off my back about that already," the orange one whispered loud enough only for Simmons to hear it. The maroon soldier shook his head as he stepped forward, forcing Grif backwards. Sarge stepped in between the two and pushed them apart. "That's enough you two."

"So is the meeting over?" asked Church. Sarge nodded his head giving an opportunity to grab a few moments to themselves. Caboose watched the others leave one by one with disappointment. "So much for a happy Christmas."

"We could still try and celebrate it over there," Iowa suggested gently patting his friend on the shoulder pad. Tucker snickered at the kind but foolish thought. "Don't count on it. If what Sarge said is true, then we won't have the luxuries there that we do here."

"Aw come on, don't be the Grinch of Christmas Tucker," urged Doc a little disappointed himself at the decision reached by the UNSC.

"I'm just speaking the truth Doc."

* * *

Doc looked down at the floor as rain clouds of a gloomy mood began to form over his head. Donut led his good friend by the arm and pulled out a deck of playing cards. "How about a game of cards, I know that will cheer you up for sure!"

"So not cool, this is going to mess with my rave parties," Sister complained as she left in a sigh. Grif looked at the rest slowly leaving one by one in a daze. Sarge could feel a conflict within Grif from just looking at his fidgeting form. _As much as I would love to see Grif be run over by a steam roller right about now, I guess I should really do my job as the leader_. "What's on your mind Grif?"

The younger soldier looked at his superior officer with suspicion. _Why is he being so considerate of me?_ The orange one looked away with his arms in front of him ready to push past Sarge and make a break for it. _He must be messing with me. Sarge is never this nice to me_. The red leader waited patiently for his subordinate's reply. However, Sarge's persistence and patience quickly managed to win Grif's trust over. "Well, some stuff happened between Simmons and me."

"What sort of stuff?"

"It started with the game we held against the blues. He was cool at the beginning, but slowly started to lose his patience when he heard me give up."

"Oh that's right, where was I before with that?" asked Sarge of his conversation partner.

"Why is that a problem?"

"Oh no," Sarge answered horrified at hearing his man's actions. "Let me just pull out my trusty shotty here and cleanse you of your sins."

"I do not wish to be helped!" Grif tried escaping the grasps of his superior unsuccessfully as he continued to wrestle against the grip. Sarge took a moment to recompose himself. "Okay, what happened after that?"

"Um, he has been kind of a hard ass towards me ever since."

"I wouldn't exactly blame him for it."

"I guess I wouldn't either," Grif admitted as he looked down at the ground in deep thought. "But it still hurts."

"Then that means that you realize your own mistake," Sarge nodded his head proud to know that Grif at least took this seriously. "Accept it and work towards changing it."

"But, how?"

"I don't have the answer to that," Sarge turned to leave before his stomach grumbled. "Time to grab a Monte Cristo, hoorah!"

 _Huh, this feels weird_ , pondered Grif as he looked at the door frame. _I think I just got a pep talk from Sarge without being threatened every second by his shotgun…that will be a moment for the history books I bet_. The Private stood by the windows and gently rested his forehead against the sill. Gamma appeared beside his master and pointed towards the kitchen of the base. "Perhaps eating will make you feel a bit better."

"Eating will piss Simmons off even more into thinking that I'm just trying to shove my problems down my throat and into the crapper with food."

"Then just solve the problems."

"Gee whiz, thanks for your wisdom Microsoft Sam," Grif remarked scornfully. The fragment leaned closer until his reflection was crystal clear in Grif's visor. "Spend less time complaining, and more time doing things to better yourself."

With those words, the fragment disappeared leaving Grif flabbergasted. _Now my fragment is also telling me to put on the big boy pants eh? I really am pathetic_. He walked into his own room and lied down in bed. _But then, how else can I change when I'm just so lazy by nature?_

* * *

Tucker looked at the dog tags entrusted to him by David. He gripped the chains tightly and let the tags hang in the air as they swung in a pendulum manner from left to right. _Is this what it was like for you as well, just wondering when you can break out of the cycle of fighting from one threat to another?_ He gently smothered the smooth metallic surface and fell back against the nearby wall. _I was really hoping we could be left on our own now, that we could be left to just live out our lives in peace. But there is no such thing as peace as long as we work for the UNSC…is there?_

"No, there isn't," said Church appearing in his miniature form beside Tucker. The aqua soldier nearly fell down in surprise. "What are you doing here all of a sudden?"

"I just felt like leaving that body behind for a couple of minutes."

"In the future, give me a warning when you plan on doing something like that," Tucker caught his breath while grasping his chest. "You could have given me a heart attack, jerk."

"I don't believe that would be possible Private Tucker," noted Sigma as he displayed a few heart rate monitors. "Your heart beat did not jump as much to warrant concern."

"That was a figure of speech Sigs, don't worry about it," said the roommate fragment. The one in flames nodded his head before looking to his host. "You seem to be quite upset by the turn of events."

"Of course I am," Tucker formed a fist with his right hand and slammed it against the wall. "I don't want to do this fucking shit anymore. I enjoy being here with the others where we don't have to worry about any wars or anything. Isn't taking down a corrupt company, a dictatorship as well as a terrorist organization enough?"

"To those in charge of making these decisions, clearly not," spoke the blue fragment as he activated the base computer and accessed the messaging system. "You have a new message from Palomo."

"Palomo, what does he want?"

"Just watch the message and see for yourself."

Tucker played the video that was attached in a courteously written message. "Hey Tucker, how are you doing? Hope things are good. Meet Lorial, my daughter I told you about who I just managed to make in the nick of time for her birth. I have some more good news. We have another kid coming on the way!"

"Looks like they are busy breeding like rabbits over there," Tucker mused with a small laugh. Palomo held his daughter up to the screen and said. "She will be an older sister soon. I can't wait to see the new one, I'm sure both Jenson and I will be kept very busy from now on. Especially with their antics, but that is what makes kids entertaining to."

He gently put Lorial to the side and looked earnestly up towards the camera. "You know, I never really got to properly thank you for saving my life on Earth. Looking back at it now, I can't even imagine what would have happened to Jenson and our child if you had not been there. Matthews was always right, no matter what the rest of the world says, you guys are heroes."

 _Heroes huh, no such thing, at least I don't feel like one right now_. Tucker smirked underneath the helmet at the kind yet misplaced sentiment. "Speaking of Matthews, I'm sure Grif would be happy to know that his memory is being honored here as a true hero to Chorus, one of many who helped bring the much needed aid from the UNSC by voluntarily going to fight that was never our problem to begin with. I'm glad I came along to. I know that no matter what dangers you guys face, you will keep on moving forward towards that tomorrow together as a family."

"Hero doesn't have a bad tune to it now does it?" asked Church as he stopped the video from looping. "Tucker, you and everyone else here have left a deep impression on many during your time in the UNSC and as part of Project Freelancer. Sure there are expectations of you as a soldier, but you should know that there are people out there who look up to you not because you are a soldier that you fight, but because you chose to do the right thing always in the very end. I know you will have the courage to fight again. That is unless you want to face the deadly wrath of the UNSC lawyers, trust me that would be boring as fuck."

"Was that supposed to be encouraging?" Tucker pondered as he scratched the back of his helmet. "Because that sounded more like you telling me to stop being a pussy and be a man."

"Could be either or," mused Church opting for his words to remain a mystery irritating Tucker. In another part of the base, Caboose stood around with Iowa and Delta. "So much for Christmas presents and dinosaur egg buffet."

"Don't worry Caboose, I'm sure they have great food over there as well," said Iowa imagining the various military provisions. _Then again, great may not be the right term to describe the food…consumable perhaps?_

"And here I was going to give you all great presents!" Caboose mentioned perking Iowa's interest. "Um, they wouldn't happen to be rocks by any chance would they?"

"Not just any rocks, but the prettiest ones I could find in this canyon!"

 _Hmm, don't hope for too much Iowa unless you want to be disappointed_ , the ex-freelancer thought shaking his head. "What do you plan on doing Caboose?"

"If everyone decides to go on this new adventure, then I will to."

"That's rather straight forward," Iowa stated expecting such a response. "But don't you want to think about what you want? I mean we will be going into war."

"As long as I'm with my friends, I will be happy."

Iowa remained stunned at the few and simple words that bestowed a sense of hope in him. _Friends, is it the same case for me then?_ He looked at his best friend with a smile underneath and nodded his head. "I guess I will stick around as well then. After all, you guys are the only family I have now."

In the eerie silence of the canyon, Doc looked from the side path and puffed a sigh. O'Malley suddenly took over the steering wheel as he held a rocket launcher in one arm and gazed up at the night sky. "You better god damn believe that we will kick some serious ass."

* * *

 **A/N: Another longish chapter, but I hope you are all enjoying the story elements to it. Less chapters that are just about screwing around this time around since this is meant to be a single entry and not a trilogy this time around. I hope you all look forward to the next one.**

 **Did you pick up on any curious matter or have questions? Ask them please!**

 **Respectfully stated constructive feedback is always appreciated.**

 **~ Monty**


	6. Departure

**Chapter 5: Departure**

The blues trekked across the hot and humid canyon to the red base as Tucker kicked a stone along the way in irritation. "What do the reds want now after having laid that major news on us?"

"I bet it's to change their minds and stay here to resume our Christmas festivities!" Caboose hoped as Iowa simply chuckled at the idea. "If only that could turn out to be true."

"This so better be worth it," Sister complained as she marched inside the red base. "I was in the middle of my manicure when they called saying it was an emergency."

"You don't need to tell us over and over again," Church mentioned annoyed with her. _When will my suffering with this woman end?_ He stopped the group behind him to study the deserted halls. "Is anyone here?"

"In here you dirty blues!" shouted Sarge's familiar voice from the large dining area. As they followed the echo into the dining area, they heard another familiar voice. "Oh come on Sarge, today we are here to celebrate the best day of the year, subjectively speaking of course. Let's all put aside our differences and come together so that Santa Doc can give you your presents!"

"And by presents, I mean that each of you gets a punch to the face," laughed the maniacal alter ego. Sarge with a rough gruff waved the sentiment away. "Once a dirty blue, always a dirty blue!"

"Come on Sarge," Simmons argued against his leader. "It's been how many years that we have known the blues? By now I think we can get past the whole red versus blue thing."

"What you say sounds like borderline treason Simmons!"

"Yeah, it totally does Simmons, what gives?" Grif inquired further encouraging the red leader much to Simmons' irritation. "Don't you get on my case to Grif."

"I keep on telling you guys, there is no such thing as reds or blues, it was all made up by the Freelancer Project. You guys already know it so why keep on pretending like its real?" Tucker asked as he slid out a seat at a large table covered in an extra large pink cloth. Many dishes sat in the middle that exuded a mouth watering aroma to which Caboose quickly fell victim to. "Mmm, delicious food…"

"Christmas turkey!" shouted Iowa taking the closest seat he could find to the delectable feast. Church crossed his arms and sighed in frustration. When prompted by Tucker, he answered. "One of the downfalls of being a robot or an AI fragment is that you can't eat food or taste anything. At times like this, I wish there was a mouth and taste buds installed in this body."

"[True dat]," mentioned the Spanish robot equally frustrated. He left however to seize the brilliant opportunity he saw for some alone time with Sheila. Caboose merrily jogged towards the free seat besides Iowa as he pointed the gun at the food. "What do you want to eat Freckles?! I want to eat it all!"

"I do not require such sustenance Captain Caboose," his pet gun answered with indifference in its voice. Donut looked around the room and happily sat people down one by one. "Be sure to enjoy the meal and tell me what you think. I was in charge of both the cooking and the setup for the table."

"That explains the pink," noted Sister as she nearly barfed in her mouth at the strong color. _Such a horrid fashion taste, like oh my god that is so not cool_. Grif bumped his sister's head with his fist. "Don't complain."

"Ow, okay."

Grif took the open seat beside her and shot her a glare. The message was crystal clear. Don't embarrass the older brother or yourself, else you will be embarrassing the family. Grif took his fork and knife and started scrapping the two together. "So, when do we get to the good part?"

"Hah, is it time to open the presents?!" Caboose perked his head up from the turkey as he cleaned his drooling mouth. Doc laughed heartily at the innocent determination in Caboose's voice. "No Caboose, it's not time yet. Come on everyone; let's dig into the food first before it gets cold."

* * *

Grif made the first move taking a large chunk of the turkey into his plate. As he continued to carve, he could feel a sharp knife behind his neck. "Uh, Simmons, why are you pointing that at me?"

"Because you need to leave the turkey alone for the rest of us now."

"Come on, it's the time of giving right, so give me the turkey?"

"I will let Church kick you in the nuts, how is that for giving?"

"Oh I will so totally do it," Church nodded preparing his foot with a stretch. Grif stood up holding his chair defensively. "Protect me chair!"

Caboose bit into the turkey leg and let out a childishly satisfied groan. "It's a shame that there isn't any more here."

Caboose studied the empty plate and noticed the turkey on his friends' plates. Donut gently rested a hand on the table with a wide smile pointing back to the kitchen. "Don't worry, there is another one being prepared in the oven right now Caboose. You can have more soon."

"Yay, hooray for turkey!"

"These mashed potatoes aren't bad either," Tucker noted as he mixed the turkey, the mashed potatoes and the gravy together to create multiple layers of pleasurable flavors. Doc dipped the steamed carrots into the turkey gravy and took in the wonderful scent. "By the way, I'm surprised that headquarters was willing to send all this stuff so willingly for us to use."

"Well I did have to call in a favor," Sarge mentioned lowering his gaze. It sent an ominous shiver down everyone's spine. There could only be one person they could rely on, someone with a lot of connections to get them what they needed. Tucker nearly choked on the food at the thought. Church leaned forward against the table in minor shock. If he had a human face, it would be screaming shock right now. "Sarge, you couldn't have…"

"I had to."

"There must have been other ways," argued Doc who suddenly felt a slight loss of appetite. The red leader crossed his arms and looked all around with a stern but determined face. "I wanted this to be a special Christmas for you all. This is after all the first one we have celebrated here. I was hoping to do something like this much, much sooner but with all the things we got caught up in, the opportunity never arose. I know it's not the best deal in the world but it's better than nothing."

"Great, what do we owe him?" asked Tucker as he wiped his mouth of the bread crumbs near his cheeks. Sarge shook his shoulder once again lowering his gaze. "Unfortunately he never mentioned what he wanted in return."

"Sarge, this is Muffins we are talking about here," Simmons stood up in a worrisome motion. "You agreed to this exchange without even knowing what he wanted in return?!"

"Meh, the worse he can do is want someone's ass," Grif noted with Simmons pointing a finger towards him. "Better you than me then."

"Ugh, it's not like I said I wanted to do it."

"Too late, no take backs!" Sister encouraged with her imagination running wild at the thought of her brother and Muffins in a love nest. Her mouth drooled not from the food on the table, but the one of her mind. Grif had a good idea of what was going through her head and opted to scoot a little further away from the pervert's influence. As the rest of the crew finished their plates, and began piling them for cleaning, it was clear to Doc that it was time to move on to the next event for the day. "Time to open presents!"

* * *

"Yay, presents, you guys will love mine!" Caboose exclaimed as he held up a large bag. Tucker looked from left to right trying to make sense of the confusion. "We were supposed to bring presents?"

"Don't worry about it if you didn't bring any," said Grif admitting that he himself has none to give. Doc brought a large sac to the table just as Donut cleared the plates and any leftover food. "Okay, so who wants to go first?"

"Oh, pick me! Pick me!" Caboose raised a hand high up in the air as he held up Iowa with the other. "Then it will be Iowa's turn!"

"Looks like we have two eager volunteers here," Sarge nodded his head. "If only I had more people with that type of enthusiasm for when I ask them to face glorious death in the name of the reds."

"Sarge, asking me to stick my face in a cannon so you can fire and call it an accident in your report to the UNSC is not exactly something even an enthusiastic idiot would volunteer for," Grif retorted as he crossed his arms and shook his head in disapproval. Sarge looked away with a light gruff. "Spoil sport. I only ask that you do that one thing for me Grif, then never again!"

"Okay guys, let's focus," O'Malley suddenly broke through Doc's persona. "Before I feed you coal for your breakfast tomorrow you fools, mwhahaha!"

The room went silent at the harmless threat, yet the way in which it was uttered left an impression of fear. Doc clapped his hands happy to finally receive the silence he had been requesting. "Now then, sorry Caboose but I will go first. Also, Iowa doesn't seem to have any prepared either, but I hope you enjoy mine either way still. Let's see here. For you Caboose, I have a book about friendship."

"Awesome, I'm going to go read it all tonight!"

"For you Iowa, I have a vintage wine that should be ready to drink if you keep it in a slightly cool place for a while."

The ex-freelancer took it with gratitude as doing so reminded him of his previous family, and most of all the man Idaho. He underneath the helmet wore a wide smile and thanked Doc with deep appreciation. "I will treasure this gift."

"Don't just treasure it," Tucker pointed a figure towards the bottle and motioned to chug it down. "Be sure to enjoy it as well."

"Yeah!" Iowa happily smiled at the positive energy he was surrounded with in his family. He held the bottle close to protect it from any harm that may come and slowly lost track of everything happening around him. The bottle and memory of Idaho was all that mattered to him at the moment. Doc reached inside his bag and pulled out another gift. "For you sister, I have a small container of…morphine?"

"Aw yeah," Sister reached out for the box and inspected every vile for cracks. "This is so going to be used up all in three days- uh, I mean I will keep this in storage for when we need it for emergencies."

"Next up is Church," Doc held out a large, almost cylindrical and purple device. "This will help you store your memories on here. You shouldn't need to worry about space right now or anything. I always figured that it may be nice to help store your memories somewhere else as well for when you need access to them in the future."

"Huh, that's very…thoughtful of you," thought the robotic blue as he went about gently smothering the device. Doc now took out a long range communicator that extended its influence over several galaxies. "This is to help you talk to Junior whenever you want to Tucker."

"That's sweet of you Doc," Tucker answered studying the device. But with some regret in his voice he spoke. "Would have been nice to get some girls in here though."

"I'm a girl," said Sister earning some questionable gazes, especially one from Tucker. "I meant some girls that are my type."

Doc reached inside yet again as he turned his attention towards the reds and motioned for Lopez to come closer. "I have a bestselling book of poetry for you!"

"[Gracies, I will memorize these and be sure to impress Sheila with them.]"

"Silly Lopez," Donut intervened with the shake of his wrist. "You can't recite your poems to a rock in the canyon and expect an answer back."

Everyone looked at the Spanish robot, waiting for his defense. When they were met with silence, they all lowered their heads in pity. _Poor, poor Lopez_. The robot simply walked off having now learned to completely block out these misunderstood and dumb moments of the gang. Doc reached inside and held out a cooking set. "Here you go Donut, this is what you have been wanting right?"

"Oh, how did you know?!"

"Santa Doc knows all of your wishes!"

"Really?" Tucker asked as he crossed his arms. "Then why did I not get any bitches if you know my wishes? Come on man, I need to get laid here."

"Now for Grif," said Doc as the orange soldier's ears perked up like a cat's. "I have a full crate of pudding here."

"All hail the pudding god!" Grif spoke as if in a trance taking the crate and gorging down on one of the puddings. He ran out of the room to quickly store the rest. Simmons looked worriedly towards the kitchen. "We may have just woken up the pudding crazy maniac inside of him."

"Next up is you Simmons."

The maroon one turned suddenly freezing up in his spot. He clenched his fists on his thighs as he gritted his teeth. _Again I freeze up when I'm put in the spotlight. No, calm down Simmons, you are just getting a gift_. Doc held out a bag of several components at which Simmons curiously gazed inside. There were several chips, screws and other small electrical bits. The maroon one looked up at Doc who scratched the cheek of his helmet as he spoke with some candor. "I know how much you value that cell phone Edwards gave you from before and I thought it may be a good opportunity for you to get it working. Although we may not have the time for that now sadly."

Simmons held the bag close with a most thankful smile. He took out Edwards' gift to him and flipped it open once. It was as if his mind was flooded with the familiar memories of another time. The dark and gloomy clouds that shaded the skies overhead, the broken streets under the tyrannical rule of one of their past enemies and the people simply fighting each and every day for survival. It was here he met Edwards, a young boy who left a lasting impact on him and met his end far too early. Simmons closed shut his eyes as he held the phone close to his chest. "Thanks Doc. I will get this phone working no matter what now."

"Hey, if you need any help," Church offered realizing the gravity behind Simmons' feelings for he too was there with Carolina. "Don't hesitate to call me up."

"And finally, we have yours here Sarge," Doc took out a brand new tool kit with specialized tools for maintaining vehicles and robots. The eager man took it and studied the condition. "This is what I have always wanted. Time for me to go and work on the warthog!"

"And then have Lopez fix it later as you manage to blow it up?" mused Tucker with a light chuckle. Doc then took out the final gift for himself which was a neatly wrapped rocket with a blue ribbon around it. "Wait, I thought I got a new medical scanner for myself."

"Who needs a stupid scanner, when you can have things to blow people up with fool?" asked O'Malley who studied the creation with much praise. Caboose brought out a bag of his own and set it on the table as the items inside clacked against one another. "Time for my gifts!"

"Isn't it just rocks?" Tucker inquired surprising Caboose. "H- How do you know that as well?"

"It's not that hard to guess Caboose," Church explained as he pointed out the window. "What else can you find here unless you were to go use various connections like Sarge and Doc here to get this stuff?"

"But I want to see it anyways," Iowa encouraged with the clap of his hands as he eagerly awaited his. Caboose smiled wider now as he took out the first one to give to Iowa. The ex-freelancer looked at it with a sheepish smile as he studied the rock from edge to edge. "Um, this is great…thanks Caboose."

Everyone else looked at theirs and did their best to find something nice to say about it. Tucker studied his and asked. "Dude, why does mine look like a dick? Also, bow-chicka-bow-wow!"

"That's because your mind is always in the gutter Tucker," Church noted. Tucker held it up for the rest to see. "Come on, you can't tell me that doesn't look like a dick."

"With that, I guess that concludes the festivities," Donut noted as he began clearing up the table of any leftover decorations. Sarge nodded his head and stood up with the rest. "And a happy new year. I'm going to go pack."

* * *

"Right, the draft notice," Church whispered as he watched his friends' spirits plummet. He clapped his mechanical hands together and motioned for the blues to follow him. "Guys, it may not be the greatest deal but what else can we do when we now work for the UNSC? They are our employers."

"Employers don't normally threaten to have their employees do something," said Simmons as he took the mobile components quickly past everyone and into his room. Church stopped in his tracks and sighed in agreement. _No, I suppose they don't_. In his own room, Grif lay in bed with his eyes wide open staring up at the ceiling. He shifted in his bed uncomfortably at the prospect of having to yet again leave home. _No, fuck that_. He stood up and rested his forehead in his hands. _But if I don't, I could be discharged or worse, imprisoned. That would not only be bad for me, but my family to. Kaikaina wouldn't be happy about it either. Heck, she better not be thinking of ditching either. I can't imagine how embarrassing that would be to the family. Agh, I need to go take a walk_.

Tucker watched the canyon from atop blue base. His mind was made up. Church walked up behind his friend and studied the weather conditions. "Sometimes I wish the temperature here was more consistent instead of being extremely hot during the day and extremely cold during the night."

Tucker remained quiet and ignorant of his friend's words. Church leaned closer into Tucker's peripheral vision nearly causing the aqua one to stumble over. "What's on your mind Tucker?"

"I was just thinking about the draft notice."

"That," Church leaned backwards as he rested his hands on his sides. "That thing has had quite the effect on us hasn't it?"

"I'm thinking of willingly accepting the decision and going."

"Really?"

"Really," Tucker responded with a resolute nod. "This is a war against the extremist Sangheili. If they aren't stopped, their way of thinking and culture could not only affect us humans, but also Junior. I can't let anything happen to him. He is my responsibility, my kid after all."

"That's the first responsible thing I have heard you say in a long while," Church crossed his arms and took a few steps back. "What have you done with the real Tucker?!"

"Very funny, but I'm serious."

Church looked from Tucker and up to the sky. He uncrossed his arms and stood up straight. "Whatever the case, I'm stuck with you as are rest of the fragments with their respective hosts. In the end, it's your guys' choice. But I'm kind of glad that you decided to go and fight. It shows that you guys are no longer afraid of a fight like you all were in the past."

"Who said I was afraid eh?" Tucker joked holding up a fist.

* * *

Simmons worked on the cellphone, slowly making progress. He inserted another capacitor in one of the several overheated components. He replaced one of the visibly damaged chips and blew some air to blow out the dust. He gently attached the back casing and tightened the screws on the back. He took the charger for the phone and attached it to the wall. The screen was black. _That's a no go then I guess_. He scratched his head deep in a headache provoking thought. _Just what is it that I'm missing here? I checked the schematics for this model again and it seems to be fine. Is it perhaps the power flow from one component to the next that is faulty?_ He reached inside his tool kit for a measurement device and attached it to the various components on the back and concluded to run some tests regarding power levels.

"Simmons," Sarge stood by the open door to his room. "Got a minute?"

"Sure, what do you need Sarge?"

"I wanted to talk about the latest policy change with you."

"Don't worry, I will go."

"You will?"

"Yeah," Simmons nodded his head as he held the cellphone with a gentle grip in one hand. "I don't want the fighting to spread and I most certainly don't want any power hungry idiots out there trying to rule the galaxy and make more victims in the process like Elsie and Edwards."

"That's good to hear. What about Grif?"

"I imagine he is still mulling it over."

"Probably stuffing his face in pudding right about now," Sarge pulled out his shotgun growing more irritated by the second. "Why I ought to give him the shotty pudding one of these days."

* * *

Grif walked up the ramp from the main floor that exited to the roof of the base. He looked out at the darkening sky with a huff and a puff. The _laziness within me tells me not to go, but the responsible one within me tells me otherwise. It tells me to protect and fight alongside my friends_. He stood by the teleporter that shaded his armor in bright green. Donut walked outside to observe his flourishing garden. He watered them for the night and stopped upon observing his orange comrade. Happily, as if like an excited kid, he waved to the man on the roof. Grif sheepishly waved back, a little embarrassed at just how eager Donut seemed at the exchange. _I guess being able to just go with the flow and enjoy the little things has its charms, more so than being caught in a perpetual cycle of self doubt_. Donut pointed up at the barely visible stars and jumped up and down as he described the various constellations he knew of in their galaxy. Grif looked up to the stars himself following Donut's finger and sighed with irritation towards his inability to decide. Sarge appeared behind the orange one and with surprise he stood beside his subordinate. "I thought you would be in the kitchen eating all the pudding."

"I considered it," Grif upon hearing Sarge crack out his shotgun quickly corrected course. "But I figured it won't help much."

"But it seems that there are other things on your mind as well."

"Are you a mind reader Sarge?"

"No, the way you stand gives it away."

"The way I stand?"

"Yup," Sarge nodded pointing towards Grif's posture. "A man's form as he stands can tell a lot about him in the moment. The more someone slouches, the heavier their load. Judging by your slouch, it's looking pretty heavy to me right now."

 _That was quite astute of him_. Grif straightened out his back with a deep breath. "Sarge, be honest. What do you think I can do to improve as a soldier?"

"Give up the pudding, stop being so dumb, start following orders, be a better team player, stop your sister from coming over to red base every day, learn to throw an actual punch rather than hiding behind a cone everytime and much more," Sarge recited from his head as if he had his weak points prepared ahead of time. He noticed Grif retreating into his safe shell as he was told by him. "That's a little too fast and honest Sarge."

"Oh, if only I could be completely honest," Sarge spoke in a slightly saddened voice as he held his shotgun close. Grif shifted uneasy at the motions. "Then let's all be thankful that you can't."

Sarge looked up to the sky and saw a lone bird fly in the air. _That's the first time in years I have seen another creature here_. He wondered what else might lie beyond the gulch. But right now, he had other issues to look after. "So, is deciding to go or not to go really bugging you that badly?"

"Unfortunately, yes. I thought it would be a simple matter of me saying screw it and stay here."

"If only we could all do that and live here for the rest of our military career in peace."

"Except we were never actual soldiers of the UNSC to begin with," Grif motioned up towards space. "Think back to how many missions the UNSC has actually helped us with? We have had to clean up their messes more often than not and they still get the credit for it. Now we are being forced to basically go fight a war for them. I don't want any part of this! I know I'm lazy, I know I have a lot of problems and I know that I am not the best type of friend, Simmons and you are right on all of that but I don't want anything to do with their mess!"

"You want to run away again?"

"Yes, yes I do!"

"What will that change?" Sarge asked turning a serious glare towards his orange compatriot. "You choose not to go, and we go off to war. We go to fight while you are either sent back home or thrown in prison."

Grif clenched his hands around his waist and with a gentle yet sorrowful moan he muttered. "I know, I know the fucked up position they have put us in. I know that we will never be able to have what we wish for the most."

"That type of thinking will kill your desires completely Grif," Sarge turned his body towards Grif and rested a firm grip on his shoulder. "Things aren't daisies right now, but they will get better once this storm passes over."

Sarge quickly retreated his hand and flexed his fingers in slight surprise. _I never thought I would give him a pep talk like this. It feels very strange_. Grif shook his head and leaned back against one of the pillars erecting from the sides of the base. "Just what do I do then?"

"You know you can improve, so then, come and fight with us. You can improve yourself through this mission."

"How?"

"Learn to take what you have learned and actively apply it to your conscious thinking and behaviors," Sarge looked back down towards the base with the smile of a proud father. "Simmons knows he has to improve as well and I can already see the drive in him. You on the other hand, I guess you still need that push."

"You think going to fight this senseless war will be that push?"

"Maybe," Sarge held up a finger by Grif's mouthpiece. "And let's not call this war senseless. A lot of men and women have died in it already. They did so thinking that they are protecting the universe from the extremist beliefs before it spreads any further."

"But how will that change things in the long run?"

"We don't know," Sarge looked down in deep thought with a sigh. "It may not change anything at all. It may change the tides of the war completely that may allow us to finally put an end to the fighting. You will never know until you take the chance."

Grif smirked underneath the helmet in the thought of Sarge's insanity. _You really are a crazy old man sometimes and you have turned me crazy alongside you over the years_. He nodded his head and looked up towards space. "Let's see if I can find this change out there then."

* * *

Their time to decide was depleted, and with it, their time to prepare as well. The BGC stood in the middle of the canyon with Sheila worriedly circling the group. "Are you sure you all can't take me with you?"

"Sorry," said Tucker. "But we just don't have a way of transferring you over to something smaller right now."

"Sorry Freckles, but you will have to stay behind," said Caboose as he stood in his room inside Blue base as the rifle inquired why. Caboose held another in his hands in place of Freckles, much to the surprise of the others, Freckles sounded almost jealous. "But why Captain Caboose?"

"Because I don't want to take you there, it's very dangerous," Caboose replied as he placed the rifle by his bedside. "I know it sucks being alone, but I want to keep you safe. So wait for me Freckles, Iowa, me and everyone else will be back and then we can go on tons of walks, all of us can go together!"

Quickly the dark blue soldier ran out and met the ready gazes of the others. Caboose looked around to see the reds and their luggage, and same for his own comrades. They had all decided to travel light for the most part.

"Don't worry Sheila. We will come back for sure!" Caboose spoke. Sheila appreciated the sentiment as she gently approached the dark blue one and crouched down in front of him. "Do you have everything packed Caboose?"

"Yup."

"How about your change of clothes, your lunch and all the essentials that you need?"

"I have them."

"Wow," Church crossed his arms as he considered the idea. "She totally sounds like a mom right now."

"[Then she would make a very sexy mom]," noted Lopez as he moved closer to her and bowed his head in slight shame. "[Sheila baby, I'm sorry to leave you like this all of a sudden. I promise I will be back and bring the others back with me]."

"Don't worry bean daddy, I will be right here waiting for you!"

"Whoo hoo! Go team go!" Sister shouted swinging her arms wide apart. Grif gently bumped the bottom of his fisted hand against her helmet as he looked down towards her eyes through the visor. "Don't embarrass the family."

"Okay," she replied meekly as she rubbed her head. Iowa looked towards the clouds upon hearing a large thunder. _I will never get used to this sound_. Almost as if shaken by fear, the crew braced their legs and looked up to the skies. The clouds tore apart at the appearance of the UNSC ship. It dusted the clouds away and extended its landing gears while nearing the ground. The ship gently landed with a light bump and opened its bay doors. "Guten Tag my Blood Gulch hoomies!"

"Is that?" Tucker looked inside towards the pilot area as the door slid open. Simmons pushed past him with an intense gaze. "No, it can't be."

"Rejoice, for it is I, Muffins the Pilot here to pick you all up!"

"Son of a bitch, it is!" Church screamed nearly falling apart into a temper tantrum. The crew grabbed their bags with uncertainty and boarded the plane. It took off with speed and they were soon out into space. Everyone looked back at their home planet and gently gave a wave. Muffins accessed buttons that lit up green to his left and saw a tear in space. "Time to go through the magic radiation hole and see who loses their hair first and dies of cancer, yay!"

The ship entered the wormhole, and left behind a small flash of light and then the eerie silence of space.

* * *

 **A/N: That was a long chapter. But one that now finally gets the ball rolling onto the more grittier aspects of the story. I hope you look forward to their fight and survival in this war as well as some developmental stuff I have been setting up with the characters.**

 **Respectfully stated criticism/feedback is always appreciated! :)**

 **~ Monty**


	7. Deployment

**Chapter 6: Deployment**

Within the tunneled cosmic blue rift bending space and time, one lone UNSC Pelican travelled just mere inches above the violent turbulence. The distorted space below them arose and fell like deadly ocean waves. The BGC looked out the windows and all wondered the same concern. _Will we be really okay with him flying?_ Tucker unbuckled his seatbelt and braced his legs to push him upwards. As the ship shook from what one may fear to be a collision, but in reality it was the pressures surrounding them, Tucker held on to the top bars as he walked towards the cockpit. Accessing the control panel, Tucker opened the door to see the German pilot snoring into a deep nap. Tucker could feel a vein pop out of his forehead as he swung a hard fist at the ex-Captain. "I knew this would happen!"

"Oh my sexy Tucker," he gently kissed his fingers and pointed them towards the aqua soldier. Tucker shifted to his right narrowly dodging the hearts filled with love within his imagination. Muffins' expression stiffened momentarily as he let his hand fall down without resistance. Tucker had made his choice. He was not going to entertain Muffins' playfulness. "What is it that you want with me?"

"I was just wondering why you are the one piloting this Pelican?" Tucker held onto the headrest while spreading out his legs to counteract the turbulence. "Shouldn't you have one of your lackeys do that?"

Muffins for once seemed to completely lose the goofy expressions and silently gazed out the front windshield. "I no longer command a cruiser. Seems as though the UNSC didn't want to put up with my antics any longer and my contacts were only as effective as to keep me out of serving time on the inside where I would have no doubt had my sexy bottom stretched while picking up the soap!"

"You didn't crash and blow up another cruiser ship now did you?" asked Church using Tucker for balance. Muffins grinned sheepishly sending shivers down everyone's spine. _We are not safe here. If there is a god out there, please let us survive this trip_. Muffins began to laugh hysterically and quickly quietened as if he was a child recently scolded for his noise. With a mumble, he said. "I might have."

"[Hey Grif, I think I found someone with a worse track record than yours for blowing up vehicles]," Lopez mused with a very robotic laugh. Tucker looked at the nearing exit as the ship approached with a bright flash of light. They exited to the empty space leaving behind no trace of their wormhole travels. Straight ahead, Tucker could see their destination as Muffins entered the coordinates to the distant military station. "Be ready my hoomies, the moment you land, you will be debriefed on the situation and probably deployed right away."

"No rest for the wicked I suppose," Sarge mentioned as he asked for Theta to magnify the station image on his H.U.D. As the ship neared, they could hear the voice of an operator woman aboard the docking operations for the station. "Identify yourself!"

"Oh hey Karen, this is Muffins here baby!"

The operator went silent, almost as if she were considering raising an alarm. _Of all the people, why did I have to get him?_ She wondered as she punched a nearby panel in disgust. "M- Muffins, you are clear for landing at Bay D25."

"Thank you sexy woman," Muffins spoke changing his high pitched tone with every word doing his best to sound sexy. "But baby, you still haven't gotten back to me about my invitation for a night full of partying."

The line went dead. All he heard was a loud beeping noise. "Hello, Karen dear?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if she hung up on you," grinned Tucker as he held back laughter. Church shook his head as he leaned in close to whisper. "I wouldn't be so happy about this if I were you. If I recall, you don't really talk to women much, or rather they all tend to run away from you after talking with you for a minute or two."

"Oh shut up, let me have this," Tucker gently shoved his friend away and looked back towards the pilot. "Say, weren't you into guys before?"

"I'm bisexual," Muffins winked as he squeezed his shoulder close to his cheek in a miserable attempt to look cute. "So how about it big boy, do you want to take Karen's place in my heart?"

Tucker froze up as he saw Muffins' hand approach his waist. Tucker took a hold of his alien sword and aimed it at the pilot's neck. "I think you are jumping the gun here. Also, I like women. I'm not into gay relationships to make things clear. Stop making passes at me."

Unexpectedly, the ex-Captain complied with Tucker's request causing the rest to worry. _This isn't normal_ , they thought. _Is he really Muffins?_ The pilot turned to reach for the landing gears as he entered through the base's shields and into the hanger bay. With a gentle bump, he opened the back doors and helped gather everyone's bags. "Well, I guess this is it for now my hoomies. It was good meeting you again. I missed you all so much!"

"You really mean that?" asked Donut holding back a few tears of joy alongside Doc and Muffins. Doc held out his overcharged medical scanner and sniffled with an ominous sense of happiness. "I missed you so much as well Muffins!"

"That is not what your scanner is telling me right now!" Muffins shouted as he hid behind a few boxes on deck. "Just put that thing away before you hurt someone with it crazy purple man!"

* * *

"I presume you are the group of soldiers from Blood Gulch?"

They all looked towards a new voice that entered their fray. He was a man in his sixties, easily carrying himself with the stature of a charismatic leader, but at the same time someone with a mask. He gazed down towards Muffins, almost glared and nodded his head to the pilot. "Thank you for your services, you may leave for now. I will contact you again when there is a new mission for you. Resume your normal duties for now soldier."

"Yes sir."

 _Muffins just said 'Yes sir' to someone?!_ The BGC nearly fell upside down at the event. One of the many soldiers noticed the man's presence in his neatly kept military uniform and slapped his heel against the floor with a salute. "Commander on deck!"

The elderly man studied the group from head to toe. He eyed Tucker and inched closer with some level of malice in his eyes. "So you are the one with that alien child. Hmph, I can't believe we have someone like you in the army."

"How would you know that?"

"I have access to your files," he looked around to the crew and pointed a finger at each and every one of them. "Don't think that you can get away with things like you have been able to so far. You are all failures as actual soldiers. But I will make sure to put you lot to work on the front lines. Even a defective tool can have its uses."

Tucker clenched his hands and took a silent step forward before being stopped by Church. "Don't waste your strength here, it's not worth it."

Tucker lowered his fist unbeknownst to the commander. _Great, we already have an asshole superior to deal with_. Grif pondered as he looked towards the some curious, and some rejectionist gazes they gathered. The commander eyed Sarge in particular with scoff. "Do you realize why you lot are here, it is because of incompetent leadership. If you had a better leader, then you wouldn't be going to fight on the front lines, oh no, you would probably be sitting in a warm chair dictating the war. You were all denied the opportunity for advancements and that works out well for me. I can put you to use for the purposes of this war. Don't disappoint us. You will be debriefed on the situation in twenty minutes in my office. Get used to the space station until then."

Tucker broke free of Church's grip and shot up a middle finger just as the commander left the area. Grif with a sigh looked around at the directions on the walls. "It hasn't been ten minutes and we are already dealing with a stuck up prick."

"Every army has one I guess," Donut surprisingly noted to the others. They looked at him for a quick follow up, but his response to such expectations was met short. "W- What?"

"Well it's not like you to say something like that," Doc mentioned as he looked at Caboose who said. "Yes, you are normally super nice! Where did your deliciousness go Cinnamon Donut?!"

"That can be taken in all the wrong ways…," said Church in a mischievous voice before hearing Tucker's trademark remark. "Bow-Chicka-Bow-Wow!"

"Well I'm off to find some grub," Grif pointed in the general direction of the cafeteria as Sister followed after him. "See you losers later."

Simmons eyed the technology division sign. _They are bound to have some neat stuff there_. He held out the cell phone and watched the bag of components intently. _Maybe I can ask for help there to_. He quickly left for his much anticipated destination. Doc followed a couple medics offering his help as he deemed it to be better than just wasting the twenty minutes doing nothing. Sarge and Lopez headed off together with Donut to explore the various confines of the station and its engine. Church looked all around as the crew split up and crossed his arms dumb founded as to what he should do. He looked to his aqua friend who was still most irritated with Church doing his best to calm him. "Come on man, no point in staying angry. I know, how about we go check out the female crew here? I bet there are some really hot ones here."

As if hearing the mating call, Tucker's ears perked up and his eyes shined with determination. _Women, women, women, women, need to get laid, laid, laid, must have!_ He rushed on ahead of Church who followed shortly. Behind them, as they left, there remained the unwelcoming gazes of the army soldiers. Several of them shook their head still unable to believe what Tucker had done before. But some had begun to question their rejection of such a notion as the commander's words began to make more and more sense to them by the day. One of the soldiers looked at the rest with a nod as they carried on with their work before they met the wrath of their captain.

* * *

"Ain't she a thing of beauty boys?" Sarge eyed the engine with greed glimmering in his visor. "If only I could take it apart and study it. Oh how I could spend hours doing that."

"Slow down Sarge, first we gotta set the mood right!" Donut exclaimed as he pulled out a stereo system and engaged in a relaxing tune. The music slowly built up from an atmospheric relaxation to heart pounding, thunderous and epic notes. Donut rubbed his hands together and approached the engine. "Alright, now we are ready to take this bad boy apart!"

The pink soldier stared at the large machination before helplessly turning his head and with a tilt he questioned. "So how do I take out the screws?"

Sarge nearly fell to the ground on his head at the stupidity. "I thought I had taught my men better than that, but clearly not. Lopez, get me my toolkit, we are going to have a six hour grueling session on the art of screws and screwdrivers!"

"[You left your toolkit back in Blood Gulch]."

"That's nice of you to offer Lopez. Get me a Monte Cristo for lunch."

"[Stupid old man]."

"That wasn't a very nice thing to say Lopez," Donut rebutted and received a blank look of what one could perceive as shock. "[Out of all the important things I have to say, you only understand the dumbest of things? Why was I transferred into this unit? Someone please take my CPU and destroy it before I have to spend another moment with these morons]."

* * *

 _Looking fine_ , Tucker pondered as he leaned against the metal pillar while observing the female crew in the recreational area. Church followed the aqua one's gaze and tilted his head. "I will admit, she has some nice curves."

"But?"

"But?"

"Dude, I know you well enough to know when you also want to say something else," Tucker spoke with authority and confidence in his knowledge. Church crossed his metallic arms as the metal clanged together gathering the attention of those around him. "If I had a mouth, I would be smiling right about now. I didn't think you would actually care enough to observe that much about me Tucker."

"We have known for how many years now?"

"Well you have known multiple copies of me, but I'm not that same Church."

"I know," Tucker noted as he looked towards a blonde bombshell. "But for whatever reason, your guys' personality always ends up being the same as the one before. I guess that is what happens when you listen to Caboose right down to the minor details, even if some of them are exaggerated."

"I guess," Church moved closer as he too eyed the blonde worker. "By the way, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry about it Church, I won't let that asshole commander bring me down."

"But you know, there are bound to be more like him probably."

"Well, that's just how the universe is," Tucker looked at the time and quickly prompted for Church to follow. "There are both good and bad people, and then you have the type who think they are special, or as I like to say, assholes. We just have to somehow make do with them. Plus, he too is fighting on the same side as us. We can't go around dividing and creating internal strife now."

"Wow," Church nearly stumbled over his own foot as he landed with a hard impact. "That is probably one of the wisest things I have ever heard you say."

"What can I say? I'm a natural badass like that."

"And there goes that moment."

* * *

As the commander watched the reflection in the window overlooking space, he saw the various colored blobs enter the room in order. He turned his gaze to the new occupants and gently sat down in his leather chair that squished under his weight. He leaned forward with his elbows resting onto the table and stared from the left most soldiers to the right most. "I will make this briefing quick and short."

Sarge stood still against the iron stare of the commander, unfazed by the heavy presence that seemed to weigh on the arms of others. The man pressed a few buttons on his desk and activated a nearby hologram projector. A distorted picture slowly formed and with time as more pixels were added to the resolution, it became clearer. "That is planet UMC-5678A, or better known as Vultak. It was once home to the Sangheili who settled in after the Great War ended. But it seems that some have still yet to let go of their extremist beliefs and hatred. A war to this day plays down on the surface and its skies. Frankly speaking, this is a war that has become a battle of attrition. We are losing men fast, but so are they. We need resources you reds and blues can provide to help bolster our numbers. Your mission is simple, go down to the surface and cause damage to the enemy. You will be given specific missions when down on the surface by those ranking higher than you. Do the job you are here for and when you are all dismissed from this assignment, you will be free to go back to Blood Gulch."

The commander glared towards Tucker and with a stern, almost hateful expression he turned around. "Even you who has nursed an enemy for a child can be given a chance to once again lead a peaceful life. You don't have a choice here, all of you are required now to participate in our military operations and follow my instructions down to the letter. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir!" Sarge shouted with the UNSC salute as the rest followed. The commander dismissed them with a wave and continued staring out the window. Just as Sarge, the last one, was about to leave, he heard the commander speak up ever so slightly. "Oh, and Muffins will be your air envoy for the duration of your stay in this space region. Contact him for supply drops, pickups, mission drops and anything of that nature."

"He just had to bring up Tucker's kid again, didn't he?" Grif punched his palm in irritation. Sister promptly agreed with wide up and down motions. "That jerk!"

Simmons felt his military issued communicator vibrate. He unlocked the device as it brightly lit and reflected off his visor. "Guys, we have orders."

"Already?" Donut leaned in close and with a sigh he walked off in defeat. Doc looked at his own and felt his shoulders drop down to the ground. "Who thought it would be a good idea to send a pacifist down to the battlefield?"

"The same person who made you our squad medic," replied Church as he felt slightly uncomfortable at the notion. "However I don't think I want you tinkering with my parts anytime soon Doc."

"Oh let me do that," Caboose raised a hand in an innocent motion. "I love tinkering!"

* * *

Iowa followed the rest to the hanger area where Muffins stood ready alongside a couple other soldiers. All were dressed in basic ODST armor that left the likes of Tucker to wonder what the point was of sending them down alongside those with superior combat suits. One of the ODST soldiers looked at the aqua soldier as he approached the Pelican. As if accidently, he bumped into him. "My bad."

Tucker could feel the malice behind the force. Church offered a hand to help his friend up. "I guess news spreads fast."

"Yeah, especially if their commander is a blabber mouth," Tucker joked as he boarded the plane. Muffins began the start up procedure. The rest stored their guns and strapped themselves in. Tucker could immediately feel the intense stares of the many ODSTs. "So you are the much talked about alien child rearing freak."

Church almost felt himself go off the rails just before he was stopped by Tucker through their mental connection via his AI unit slot. Tucker smiled underneath his helmet and nodded his head. "So what if I'm bro?"

"Don't call me 'bro' you disgusting animal. Hmph, I can't believe I have to share the same space as you," the soldier looked away as he punched the hull. "How could you even do it?"

 _Not like I had a choice in the matter dipshit_ , Tucker balled his hands into fists on his thighs. The soldier continued leaning forward, only to be stopped in his tracks before his fists could find the aqua one. "Those monsters have taken my friends from me! To think that a human could even parent one of those things is nothing but what an animal would do!"

"Hey, back off!" Church felt his last restraint leave his body. "He hasn't done anything to you!"

"That's right," Tucker leaned backwards into a slouch. "I don't even know you dude. And another thing, don't go around talking about my kid like that. We are all in the same boat now, but if you want to keep on fighting me like this, then do so once we both make it back alive. I will gladly take you on anytime, anywhere and hand you your ass over and over again to you on a silver platter."

"Tch, you little…," the ODST soldier was promptly restrained by his fellow ODSTs who gave a disapproving nod. Muffins entered the heavy and tense atmosphere as he saw the gloomy looks on the faces of the ODST soldiers. "Well now, I will be taking off soon for us to all merrily go together towards our certain death. Anyone that needs to use the washroom, go do it now!"

"Oh, that's me!" Caboose jumped up from his seat and rushed out the Pelican. "Church has always said to go before I go for a long road trip!"

"I need to go to!" Iowa shouted. "Caboose always told me to go before a long road trip!"

"Well at least that dispels the rigid atmosphere from before," Simmons whispered as he looked towards the pilot seat. Muffins took a seat and watched the clamps from the ceiling extend down to the Pelican. The two soldiers came back and fastened themselves in just as the bay doors closed. Muffins lit the warning lights around the ship alerting the surrounding workers to evacuate the area. The hull of the station opened as the last of the workers evacuated. The ship was slowly moved out and eventually tossed outside. Muffins gently veered to the left where the ship reached stability and pushed down on the pedals to the thrusters. "There she is ja!"

The others looked out at the war torn planet with orange cracks all over. It was the sight of hell on Earth. As the ship flew past the allied battleships, they entered the atmosphere and broke beyond what they never realized would be some of the only white clouds they may see for a long while.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for the huge delay in the postings, but I did say that there would be big breaks now in between my posts. So expect more time gaps like these. Anyways, what did you think of the chapter?**

 **Respectful criticism/feedback is welcomed.**

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **~ Monty**


	8. First Mission

**Chapter 7: First Mission**

Amidst the windy skies, the Pelican carrying the soldiers to face the eventualities of a battlefield slowly stabilized. Muffins stared out the windshield and as a dot in the far off distance caused him to squint his eyes, he nodded his head with determination towards their destination. In the passenger area, where the silent crowd sat awaiting their future, some felt their pulse increase with fear and hesitance, while others with the thrill of an adventure and danger. The ODST still did not take too kindly to the reds and the blues, especially Tucker who sat like a target pinned up on the wall for practice of their hateful stares. In the cockpit they all heard the radio sound off. Everyone knew that their destination was very close, so close that they could feel their hearts aching to burst out of their chests. When the conversation finished, Muffins looked back and signalled for them to be ready to exit the premises of the ship soon.

On the ground, with a gentle bump as the ship neared, he landed and quickly jumped out of the seat. "Alright people, get out there and show me how sexy you all are ja!"

"Can I show you how much I dislike you?" Grif asked sarcastically and heard a contorted giggle from Sister. A laugh so embarrassing that he shifted a few feet away from her. Caboose jogged outside with Iowa ecstatically, ready to partake in as they understood it best, their group fieldtrip. _At least they are happy about it_ , thought Church as he stored a sniper rifle on his back. "Alright guys, duty calls."

The ODST soldier previously to have insulted both Tucker and Junior pushed past him. "Watch where you are going aqua boy."

The other ODSTs smirked underneath their helmet as the boisterous one stopped and glared back. "Remember, don't get in my way freak."

"That guy needs to get his head checked," Simmons spoke in support of his aqua friend as they both exited the ship together. Sarge shook hands with Muffins, only to minutes later wipe them clean with a hand sanitizer when the German pilot was not looking. Muffins waved to the crowd as he spoke with happiness. "Goodbye my friends, I will be seeing you again soon to get you lots of presents on the field and take you to a magical place that fixes up any injuries you experience."

"What about dicks with inflated egos, can they be fixed to?" asked Grif as he looked towards the ODST soldiers. "Because I think there maybe some in this army."

"Sorry," Muffins started the engines and said. "But that place can only be fixed with a night time of man on man action my dear Grif."

"Emasculate em'," Grif smiled at the very idea. "That doesn't sound too bad. I wonder what they would sound like when screaming like women."

"Whoa, let's not go there," Simmons quickly put a stopper to that train of thought. He followed Sarge down to the main camp where their commander in chief resided. Inside a large grey tent, a man in his fifties astutely studied a map hung up on the wall. Simmons peeked inside and nearly felt his jaw hang. _Who studies a physical map in this day and age?_

The commander was not one to be ignorant of those choosing to spy on his domain. With grace he took a gentle turn, and with an ice piercing stare, he saw the maroon soldier quickly retreat. Not one to let his prey escape once they fall within his gaze, he quickly shifted to the door and felt the several curious gazes as he quickly restrained Simmons into a tight lock. Simmons could feel his muscles stretch to the point of breaking. The commander as observant as he was, he made sense of the situation rather fast and released his subordinate. "I apologize for that messy introduction…Private Simmons I presume?"

"You know us?" asked Tucker as he saw the ODST soldiers quickly fall in line and salute. The commander nodded his head to the inquiry and motioned inside the camp. "Come in, you will be briefed on the situation and be given your first set of orders."

Under the cover of the tent, around the area of the maps, every soldier stood patiently as the commander laid out a few visual aids. He pointed to a map to his left and gently glazed his finger along to the lower territories. "This whole planet right now is engulfed in a war as you all probably know. But the tides of victory seem to keep changing its favor. Just a couple of days ago we dealt a large blow to their supply chain, but eight hours ago they did the same to us, just that we have suffered more casualties than them."

"I wouldn't expect them to go down so easily," Tucker commented as he recalled the strength Junior possesses. The boisterous ODST from before scoffed at the aqua one as he leaned in closer, and spoke in a demeaning voice. "Of course you would know all about that, wouldn't you?"

"Quiet!" the commander's voice echoed through the tent. The depth behind it sent shivers down everyone's spines and gravitated their attention towards him instantly. It was clear that he carried the title of commander for a reason. He motioned for the group to lean closer as he moved his finger along a short path from their present location. "You will be going to one of our combat bases in whatever vehicles we can provide to best fit the needs for this task. You will also be carrying supplies for that base. I want you to depart immediately without delay. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!"

* * *

Outside, they noticed the vehicles prepped for their departure. _The commander wasn't kidding when he meant immediately_. They all pondered as Grif was eager to call shotgun on the front most warthog for it sparkled the most. Simmons jumped onto the back rocket launchers. "Hm, it just doesn't seem to feel the same as a turret."

"Gee, I wonder why, maybe because it's not supposed to?" Church sarcastically noted as he jumped to the side seat behind the reds' vehicle. Simmons quickly swiveled around and shot up a middle finger from behind the trigger. "Up yours blue."

"Too bad for you but I don't have anywhere to put it."

"Except for that hole in your butt," Caboose interjected quickly embarrassing his best friend. "Caboose, that comment was not needed."

"Yeah, but it's the truth!"

"Hey, I don't want to ride with the crazy doctor," Sister looked at her brother for a solution. Grif took the driver's position in the seat as Sarge sat by his side and started the engine. He looked to his younger sibling and pointed to the two seating vehicle. "Then ride with Donut."

"Actually, you guys don't have to worry about riding with me," Doc pointed to the nearby Pelican from which Muffins dismounted. They took notice of the red cross symbol on the side as a symbol of an ambulance Pelican. Iowa scratched his head in a growing confusion. "I thought we were supposed to have a medic with us at all times."

"Not for this one fools!" O'Malley said as he turned around and took a rocket launcher out with him. "Time for me to go clean house up a bit, mwahahaha!"

The ODST soldier bumped past Tucker who gave a weak, and insulting look back while greatly exaggerating his impression of a terrified Tucker. "Are you afraid of little old me?"

"I don't get why you have to be such an asshole man."

"Hey, I can be whatever I want to be to freaks like you."

"Really, is this how you are going to be like out there on the battlefield?" Tucker motioned out towards the flat land with the shake of his head. The ODST shook his shoulders and crossed his arms. "I guess you better start with not relying on me to begin with. I sure as hell am not trusting you out there. Who knows what fuck ups you and your friends will make out there."

 _Real classy_ , Tucker shook his head while taking the driver seat. As everyone boarded their respective vehicles, they all slowly left after checking the luggage, everyone started their engines and slowly followed the reds' lead. Above their heads, the Pelican flew ahead as Simmons followed it with his gaze off into the distance. "Sir, how long do you think this will last?"

"What will?" Sarge peeked back towards the maroon one. Simmons turned a full turn on the rocket launcher and shook his head in disbelief. "All of this, how long do you think we are going to be here for?"

"Who knows, you are not getting cold feet are you Simmons?"

"If you ask me," Grif began as he switched gears. "My feet are plenty cold, let's all go home."

"If only we could do that," Donut noted as he pulled up beside the warthog with Lopez and sister, he spoke in an annoyed voice. "I'm missing my weekly nacho and cheese hour here you know."

"I'm surprised you guys can be so carefree about this," said Church as he pointed up to the smoky skies. "That is the sign of a close by battle, or one that took place here recently."

"But isn't this zone supposed to be out of the conflict area?" Tucker inquired as he shifted gears to keep up with the reds. Church shook his head while pointing forward. "Just because someone said that this is a conflict free zone doesn't mean that there won't be any fighting here. Fighting can break out anywhere as long as the conditions are right."

"That would be a most accurate statement," Delta gracefully made his entrance beside Tucker. "As I have observed, people and any other emotional sentient being has had an immeasurable quantity for conflict. As long as the conditions are correct, the conflicts will ripe and everyone will be stuck in a repeating cycle of war."

"Wow, deep," Iowa blurted with Caboose agreeing. "Too deep."

"Bow-chicka-bow-wow!"

"Gross," Sister scoffed at the aqua one as she proceeded to then ignore him. Grif looked up to the skies and then back down to the road in a loud voice. "How did we get from talking about the state of the sky to this bullshit nonsense about war and shit?"

"Ever since you mentioned that you were getting cold feet," jabbed Simmons with a wide grin underneath his helmet. Grif looked back with a most unimpressed expression. "Up yours to buddy. Anyways, I just want to go home, someone has to be there to finish all that pudding in the fridge after all."

"Oh don't you worry about that," Donut gave a thumb up with a proud smile underneath the helmet. "I took care of it all."

"Took care of it, as in how?"

"I gorged them myself one spoonful at a time," Donut bobbed his head up and down recalling the sweet and creamy taste. "It was most delicious."

Grif pulled out his pistol and aimed it to his left just as Donut finished. "Any last words?"

"You guys are dumb," one of the ODSTs commented as they pulled ahead of the others. Grif held up a middle finger in absolute dislike. "And what was your first clue Sherlock?"

Tucker floored the pedal much to the surprise of his occupants who looked at him worriedly as pulled up beside the ODSTs. "I don't know why you guys hate us so much, but you may as well get used to us. If you keep this up when we go to fight, you will be fucking all of us over."

The ODSTs increased their speed upon insistence from their turret gunner. Tucker persisted as he to their irritation pulled up beside them again. "I know you guys don't like me, but don't go around trying to be dicks to the others to. We are all fighting for the same side. Hell, right now we should be cooperating."

"We should, but we won't," said the gunner ODST who specifically targeted Tucker before. Tucker looked at Church for some help who simply shook his head. _Let it go man, there is no changing some people sometimes_. Tucker looked at his friend in a disapproving nod. _But I will still try Church. Would you rather that they become a liability through this beef they have against me and get us all injured or worse, killed?_

Church leaned back into his seat as he threw his arms up into the air, an admittance of defeat. "Do whatever you want to man, I won't stop you."

Sarge looked ahead and pointed to an approaching checkpoint. "Simmons, why don't you take the lead from here on out?"

"Lead for what?"

"Get us to the base in one piece," Sarge clarified as he turned to look back. "Then, be the leader for the next mission they give us."

"Me?!"

"Yeah, my thoughts exactly, why Simmons?" Grif noted in a gruff voice. He did little to hide his irritation. Sarge crossed his arms and said. "For one, I know he is more competent for this role than a certain orange someone Grif. Another reason is that you said you wanted to improve Simmons, here is your chance."

"I know I said I that, but don't you think it's a little reckless putting me in charge of operations in an actual warzone sir?"

"Nonsense, I know you can do it Simmons," Sarge said as brushed the previous comment away. "You are one of the best soldiers I have ever seen."

"Then you clearly have not seen many," Grif remarked with a slight grin. Sarge however in his moment of quick witted thinking replied. "I have seen both the good and the bad soldiers to know well enough, especially when I see them every day. Don't you think so Grif?"

The orange one found his voice quickly silenced as he gently pulled up beside the checkpoint. The soldier ordered for their names and ranks. A quick computer check later, the soldier nodded to each of them. "Sorry for holding you up, but you can never be too sure with who to trust right now."

"Things have gotten that bad," said Donut earning himself a nod. The soldier looked beyond the horizon where the fighting still waged on. "Be careful out there, we don't need any more men leaving in body bags. It would be better for you all to leave on your own two feet, don't you think so?"

* * *

As they began driving away, Sister bounced her head up and down. "You are so totally right hot soldier dude! I got myself some non-stop rave parties to throw when I get back!"

"So Simmons, what do you think?" Sarge again looked back to the maroon soldier who stood deep in thought. "You may not get another chance like this."

"I…," Simmons looked down towards Sarge's visor. Even though their faces were concealed to one another, he could still feel the hope behind Sarge's visor. _Can I really do this?_ The question raced through his mind like an itch skillfully dodging his scratcher. Simmons could feel Eta knocking on the doorsteps to his thoughts. As silent as his partner was normally, there were those rare occasions where he could feel a sense of encouragement from him. Simmons listened quietly to the words of encouragement and nodded his head. "As long as you are there Sarge, I will do it."

"Good," the older man replied with a most happy nod. "I'm glad to hear that. At least that puts my mind to ease a little."

"Why?" asked Donut. Sarge turned to their pink comrade and said. "In case something was to happen to me, I need someone I can trust to look after the team."

"If something were to happen to you?" Grif inquired with a slightly worried and an uncertain voice. Simmons too felt the same as he tilted his head and leaned closer. "What do you mean Sarge?"

"This is war boys, things are bound to be uncertain. It won't be like us winging it and somehow coming out on top. Anything can happen. After all, there are no rules to warfare."

"Then let's be optimistic and hope nothing bad happens," Donut perked up as he looked ahead to swivel around a bump on the road. As the crew continued to drive, Caboose from his gunner position looked ahead with squinted eyes. "There it is. I see it! Yes, time to go say hello to those people, hopefully they are nice!"

"Good job Caboose," Church clapped his hands and pointed to the sky. "Now try finding some birds."

"What kind?"

"Any."

"Oh, can I play this game to?" inquired Iowa to which Church shook his shoulders and waved him away. "Have a blast man, I don't care."

"I bet I will find those birds before you," Caboose spoke in a competitive spirit, which only served to further amplify Iowa's interest as he felt the fires of competition burn within him as well. "You are on!"

* * *

A few moments later, the crew arrived at the entrance to the base. Upon presenting their IDs, they were instructed on where to park their vehicles and from there they would be guided to the base's commander. Following the instructions of the soldier, the reds parked first and helped guide the rest. One of the soldiers who was rather young, and inexperienced by the sound of his voice, someone who had yet to truly see the frontlines of combat, stood by the exit of the hanger bay and awaited the gathering of the crew. Sarge followed behind Simmons as he let the young man take the reins. Simmons reached out for a handshake and was impressed by the firm grip. "Welcome to our base gentlemen, I am here to guide you to General Kennedy. Please follow me."

A few moments later, they were all standing inside of a tent befitting the camp leader. Every table was riddled in documents and maps. In the center was a large hologram projection table and to one of the sides was a personal radio setup for long range relays between the chain of command. Simmons moved curiously towards the table and studied every cranny with an astute eye. _Hmm, maybe this is using the UNSC proprietary processor. If only I can get my hands on one of those_. As he moved his hand closer, he felt a new presence enter the camp. "You may watch, but don't touch."

Simmons jerked up as he slowly turned to face the new figure. It was the commander of the base as he was dressed gruffly in the general's UNSC uniform. The ODST soldiers all gave a reflexive salute as the reds and the blues followed shortly after. Kennedy walked back and forth from the line the soldiers had formed to study them all head to toe. "So, you are our newest recruits in this fight. Well then, welcome to hell people. I'm sure you are going to love it here."

"That's a subjective matter," whispered Church who received a displeased glare from Kennedy. "You have something important to say that you interrupt me soldier?"

"No sir."

"Then listen up maggots!" Kennedy moved around to the controls of the table. "I'm giving you your first mission. It's simple, I want you to go in and investigate one of our bases that we have lost contact with near the front lines."

"I thought this was the front lines," Grif looked to his colleagues puzzled only to quickly recompose his silence upon the noticeable glare of the general. Kennedy continued to point at the various geographical positions on the map. "We recently lost contact with the base as we contacted them for their update report. We suspect that it might be the enemy that mounted an assault. I just want you lot to go in and verify the situation. Any questions?"

"How recent was this sir?" asked one of the ODSTs. The commander looked at the logs. "Just three hours ago. So this is an emergency mission. I expect that you will all perform to your best."

"Yes sir!"

"Good, dismissed!"

Simmons stepped outside with the others who gently patted him on the shoulder. "So Simmons, your first mission as our leader is a high alert one, no pressure."

"Yeah, screw you to Tucker," Simmons walked towards the hanger bay and started the various vehicles. The ODSTs all pushed past the BGC as they mounted their car. "Stay out of our way. We will get this done quick."

As they took off, Grif was compelled to give them the middle finger. "And there goes the three stooges."

"What about Doc?" inquired Tucker as he took the driver's seat in one of the cars. They heard their radios screech and echo with the noises of air turbulence. O'Malley, having the time of his life on the front lines shooting the enemy left and right, and watching the explosions as if his mind had gone into orgasm, he responded. "I heard it all you fool. Now get over here so that the strange man known as Muffins and I can continue our conquest to destroy these plebeians!"

"Then we better get going ourselves fellas," Sarge noted as he took his position to the side with his shotgun out and aware. After they all mounted their vehicles, one by one they took off to the uncertainty that awaited them on the battlefield.

* * *

 **A/N: So I'm back! (If you are reading this into the future where the story has been completed, that means jack)**

 **I have had quite the time off. Unfortunately I was not able to plan it out as much as I had hoped on paper. Whatever I have is in my head right now. I was very much focused on my school work. But it was also a good break from the writing and creative endeavors of this measure as it let me recharge my energy.**

 **Upload schedule will still be erratic as I don't have any chapters written in advance right now. I also don't plan on working on this story solely during my summer break right now. I will dabble in other things alongside this creative hobby. The news may suck for some of you, but taking my time with this lets me ensure that I do my hardest at providing the best end product. Considering the nature of this story as I have it in my head right now, I believe, that is what this story needs in order to succeed. After all, a story written with love is most likely to be the best reading experience as well.**

 **A huge thank you to those who have so loyally waited and looked forward to this day, I hope you continue to enjoy the story!**

 **What did you all think about this chapter? Feedback/Criticisms are appreciated!**

 **Catch you all next time!**

 **~ Monty**


	9. Scourge

**Chapter 8: Scourge**

With the rumbling and shaking of the car, the BGC drove through a broken and wasted land. It was literally a no man's land, a place where they knew they did not belong, no one did. At the very front were the reds with Simmons leading the mission. However, that did not keep some opposition from speaking against this choice, namely the ODST soldiers. Simmons looked to his left, and then with a swift motion he turned to the right on the mounted turret. Simmons faced forwards and gently used the gun as support to help him down. "Let's take five here while we still have the time guys."

The ODSTs came to a hard stop of displeasure. The one that was the most vocal of them all, and the most hostile stepped forward towards Simmons with intentions of confrontation evident in his heavy footsteps. "Why the hell are we stopping when we have a mission to complete?!"

Simmons felt his heart beat drop low at the sudden hostility and unexpected inquiry. "We need a break."

"Yeah, this is your first time with us so sit down and get schooled by yours truly," Grif noted as he pointed to one of their cars. "We take breaks every five minutes in our road trips. So we will drive for five minutes, and then take a break for snacks that are bad for your brain and make you fat."

"Road trip?" the ODST inquired with the shake of his head. "Is this what this is to you people, a fucking road trip?! You lot are crazier than I thought of you to be initially!"

"Now calm down buddy, there is no need for this hostility," Sarge looked to his left at the agitated soldier as he finished doing a quick checkup of his weapon. "Sometimes you just gotta go along with the flow."

"We are in the middle of a god damn war zone. I want to get back home alive!"

"So do we," said the maroon leader. "But that doesn't mean we will take everything HQ tells us with absolute seriousness. This mission is important, but our health should not be compromised. If we need a break, we will take one, no excuses."

"This is crazy," the ODST shook his head and walked away. Grif looked at the man walk away with a sense of domination. _That might have perhaps been the first time ever we got him to legit back off. I kind of like this feeling_. Donut, Caboose and Iowa sat to one side engaged amongst one another. Iowa raised his hand and with a loud audible voice he asked. "Five things you want to do when you get back home, go!"

In turns, the duo stated their inner desires for the fateful day they will bid this forsaken wasteland goodbye. Donut began as he wrapped his arms around one another in deep thought. With a hum, he smiled widely. "I want to go on a long relaxing picnic with everyone."

Caboose thought of his first point. "I want to eat that Christmas meal that we had been planning and exchange presents!"

"Oh that is a good one," Donut rubbed his hands together as his mouth drooled. "I was really looking forward to that turkey. I also want to grow even bigger vegetables."

"I want orange juice," Caboose spoke of his second point as he imagined some freshly grown oranges from Donut's garden. The pink soldier made a silent note to be sure to plant some when he got back. _Well, so far we will be able to fulfill all of these wishes_ , thought Donut. "I want to go for a long spa session."

"And I want a delicious treat, preferably involving something pink!"

"Oh, they just went there huh?" Tucker whispered as he looked towards his long time friend and the de facto leader of the Blues, Church. "Yeah, that escalated fast."

"Aw, that so nice of you to say Caboose," Donut noted as he tried going in for a hug, but he was stopped short by the daggers that echoed in Caboose's following words. "I also want a muffin!"

Donut raised an eyebrow as he sat back down and crossed his arms along with his attitude. "Oh, so I alone am not good enough for you?"

"What? But all friends are good!" Caboose claimed as he stomped his foot on the ground in absolution. Iowa felt rather uncomfortable at the growingly cold air. He rubbed the back of his helmet while looking to the AI fragments that took pleasure in the skit. "Don't you guys think you should stop them?"

"Why?" asked Delta. "I think this is fun!"

"I have to agree," Sigma noted while taping his fingers together. "It is always so good to see friends getting along so well."

"Or maybe you are just scheming eh?" Tucker interjected with a wide grin underneath his helmet. "Come on Sigma, I have had you in my head long enough to know how you think now bud."

Church could vouch for Tucker's response. "But I gotta admit, it was pretty funny seeing the little bromance derail."

Donuts spirit low, he felt the sympathetic yet invisible touch of his AI companion. "Thanks Iota, you are right, I should cheer up. After all, there is nothing else in this world like a little sprinkle of happiness to keep a soldier going."

"Wow, that got resolved fast," Sister said in a haughty voice as she bounced her hips from one side to the other for the ODSTs. Two of the three whistled in encouragement much to the annoyance of the third. _I can't believe that this is what these reds and blues amount to. How will they even do in combat then?_ He kicked a rock to the side and went to the back of their Warthog. Grif sighed with a heavy breath as he kept a close eye on his sister, all the while fiddling with a yellow box in his hands.

"What's that?" asked Simmons. Grif suddenly jolted out of his trance as he hid the small box behind his back. "Um, nothing important."

"Come on Grif, how long have we known one another now that you try such poorly constructed excuses on me?" Simmons leaned over one edge of the warthog. He rested his head atop his hands with a tilt to one side. Having lost the argument, Grif looked up at the sky with a groan and held up the box. "It's for her birthday."

"Her birthday, you mean Sister?"

"Yeah."

"Aw," Simmons smirked underneath the helmet both touched and mischievously getting ideas. "The big brother does care."

"Don't you dare tell anyone about this, otherwise you will find that phone of yours going in places you wouldn't like."

"There is no need to be so secretive about this Grif."

"I don't need her boasting about this until the day of her Birthday. It will be a huge pain in the ass having to deal with it, plus she gets a big head easily and become clingier."

"Right, because you won't be able to get fat and jerk off in peace, right?"

"Right, see, you understand!"

"I don't even want to begin describing how wrong that sounds," said Sarge as he walked around from the back of the jeep. Grif reacted fast and hid the present. "What do you want Sarge?"

"What's this I sense, insubordination?" He corked the barrel back. "That is punishable by death!"

"No it's not, Simmons, tell him!"

The Maroon soldier stared back and forth between his respected elder and leader and his best friend. "Um well…you need to conduct a hearing for his misdemeanor first sir."

"What, who created such a stupid procedure?" Sarge almost felt offended by the correction from his trusted second-in-command. "It would be quicker and cheaper to just give out the capital punishment, death by shotgun, especially those with the name of Grif!"

Lopez looked back and forth from the conversationalist and sighed in self disappointment. "[I can't believe I gave up my sweet heart to come here. Wait for me Sheila baby; your sugar daddy will no doubt come back to you someday soon!]"

* * *

In the confines of a dark, smoky sky, a loud thunderous noise clamored on and on. A pelican broke free from the prison of black smoke as Doc looked down below to the shocking revelation and cause. Below them was a pit of fiery heat, one he could feel even from up in the air. _What happened here?_ He pondered watching the buildings aflame. Muffins looked far off into the horizon, and could tell that the fire spread as far as the end of the village. "Do you see anything my cute Doctor?"

"First of all," O'Malley took over as if his restraint snapped. "Don't call me cute again strange muffin man. Otherwise I will shove this rocket up one of your holes."

"I'm sure Donut would enjoy that ja."

"Secondly, no, if I did see anything or anyone, I would be point and laugh at their misery. That should be a good enough indicator."

"I wonder what happened here, almost like that accident I had one time trying to make German barbeque for my ship mates as I was trying to impress this one stud."

"Did you impress him?" In a matter of seconds, Doc had switched back to his normal self as O'Malley did not wish to be a part of this conversation. He left his partner to suffer Muffins' stupidity alone. The pilot felt his mood drown in the unwelcomed memories. "Let's just say that he never stepped aboard my ship ever again after I tried inviting him to my room."

"I can't imagine why," noted the good doctor. Muffins was not deaf to the sarcasm, but he opted to take it all in good fun. "I know right, I even threw in that bonus he had been asking for."

"Um, I'm pretty sure that's an abusive use of your authority Muffins."

"Abuse, what? No…no such thing, not when it involves good Muffins and his crew. The adventures we go on together, both outside and inside of the bed are fond memories for all!"

"Right, that's why there are over 200 court cases filed against you related to sexual activity of some sort from your crew members."

"Um, what, where did you hear that? I mean no such thing my purple friend!"

"No use hiding it you strange man," O'Malley said with a wide and victorious smile. "I know all that there is to know, well actually Simmons does. He is the one that doxed you after all. I also know that you once tried picking up alien men at a bar which ended with you in the hospital for a torn…ass, not that I want to go into the details."

"Oh that was a fun time, fun before the hospital time came ja," Muffins shifted the stick to the right as the weight shifted with it. The pelican dipped to one side as it turned to the right and circled around the village once more. Doc peeked his head out as if almost falling out. He pointed his arm out for Muffins to follow. "There are vehicles down there!"

On the surface amidst the blaze, a set of black eyes looked up in caution. The mysteriously shaped figure motioned with its muscular and elongated arms for his fellow men to follow. They were here earlier than they had anticipated, but no matter they had succeeded in tearing down the location just as instructed. He stopped to look at the burning carcass of a small body and lowered his head in deep thought. _May you find peace in the afterlife child_. He ran to the next building over that suffered little damage from the fire and waited for yet another opportunity as he recalled his recent act.

* * *

One hour before…

Clear skies greeted the people of the village as they moved about from building to building hearing murmurs of danger. Many footsteps echoed hurriedness and the sharp sensation that sank their hearts into an unknown territory. The village side facing the ever growing battlefield, that slowly crept it's fangs towards their territory was heavily guarded by those dedicated to the cause of keeping civilians safe. Soldiers patrolled the area with intense focus in their trusty tanks. In one of the outposts at the very edge of the safe boundaries, just before entering the all out warzone, a lone soldier peeked through a pair of magnifying device. He thought he was mistaken in what he saw. Rubbing his eyes as if in an act to correct them for showing him a false reality, he took up the binoculars again and nearly felt his legs go numb. _Oh no_ , he thought quickly reacting for the communicator. "We have trouble. Two Wraiths, Ghosts and Banshees are headed our way. Sound the alarms!"

In the village, kids ran through the streets without a care. They understood not for why the adults around them wore an expression of fear, but instead did whatever they could do best to enjoy themselves. As they kicked a ball amongst themselves, as it reached the foot of a short young man, the alarms shouted right on cue. The kids stared with eyes wide open. They felt their hearts rush at the sudden sight of panic. People pushed past one another, forced their way through and even ignored the directions given to them by the army soldiers. The children finally felt the fear that the adults were feeling this whole time. Hands held tightly together in an act of binding, they pushed past the scurrying adults only to be separated as they are one by one knocked down to the ground. The loud thunderous echoes of the sky served to be a pause for reality. Everyone stood shaken, a drop of sweat trailed down their bodies leaving a cold trail behind. The hair on their very skin, as if energized, stood up to sense the impeding danger.

From the watchtower, the solder on the lookout could feel his very heart rate drop. The enemy vehicles no longer required the use of the binoculars to be seen. The vehicles maintained formation as one of the Banshees prepped to fire. The soldier in his panic fell out of the tower and hit his back with a resounding crack as he watched a bright glow of a purple energy ball escape the mounted guns. As the ball was mere centimeters away, it began to burn away the wood and created a bright, visible beacon to those defending the village at its entrance. The soldier picked himself up with the struggle of his back muscles as he saw the Banshees fly ahead. The ground vehicles however did not take too kindly to the survivor as one ran him over, scraped his body along for a ride skinning him along the way until there was nothing left to be seen but a bloody, disfigured corpse. At the edge of the village, the tanks all aimed their barrels up to the sky, but before they could even react, the Banshees made quick work of them. As the defensive walls exploded, so did the cries of the people who found themselves now at the mercy of both the air and ground superiority. The UNSC soldiers stood no chance against their invaders who with their superiority ensured complete dominance over their foes stripping them of hope. Hatches and panels opened. Elongated legs bent like a reptile's stepped out all dressed in battle armor. Only one seemed different, one that resembled most closely to a human, but even they were different enough to call themselves something not human. The different one walked forward as they saw the crying, cowering and sinful populace. "Quiet!"

Everyone stopped in their tracks and stared in horror at the woman dressed in gold armor. It was a female Sangheili. "We, the instruments of liberation are here. We are here to liberate the planet from a plague."

Suddenly, her speech cut short, her sweet yet militaristic voice had gone silent by the screeching cries of an infant. She slowly shifted her eyes to her right as the dreadlocks underneath the helmet, and touching the shoulders shifted with her head. She walked towards the crowd that told her to be the source of the noise and looked deep behind a few men with her piercing green eyes. She easily pushed several at once, threw them away into the air as they all landed too hard for their own body. One of the male Sangheilis looked to the target she eyed and moved to stop her. But before he could even reach her, the other two soldiers held him back. They knew of his intention, and they knew that her intentions outweighed his conscience. The female warrior bent down to force the baby out of the human mother's arms much to her disbelief and despair. "Let this human stain be an example to the rest of you humans. You are nothing but filth, an impure race that is a plague to the universe."

She held the baby by its head and slowly shifted its face towards the crowd. She could feel her blood boiling at the mere thought as the muscles in her arm tightened. Through the continuous crying of the infant, she shook his body around, nearly to the point the baby's neck might have snapped like a twig. "You should feel so honored, for we are here to clean the plague and restore order as it should have always been. We are here to eliminate the scourge."

With that, everyone could hear the sounds of her hand on the baby's head. The crying turned to screeching, loud and painful ones. The baby's body flailed as its legs struggled to find ground and crawl away. The mother's eyes widened as she could hear her child's voice slowly dying from fatigue and pain. It was that final few cracks that entered her ears could tell that the deed was done. The child's body hanged lifelessly from her hand. With little respect, she dropped the child's body to the ground and motioned all around. "That is the retribution we bring to the universe for it is time to finally clean."

The male Sangheili previously restrained pushed past his colleagues and held her by one arm. "You did not need to do that, they are civilians!"

The female warrior, quick witted and not too hasty to waiver motioned for the others to begin the cleansing process. "You have let your compassion get the better of you again Ful 'Mdasumee. These people are just as much a threat as a soldier."

"But that doesn't mean we can kill as we please. We are here on a righteous mission, not to be brutes!" spoke Ful. The superior warrior smirked at the thought. "How blind you are to the scourge of humanity. Have our talks from the past taught you nothing young one?"

"I have learned enough, Shexa 'Vosamee," Ful released her arm as he looked at the body. "I have learned the meaning of honor."

"What honor is there in war?"

"Honor is what we make it to be. Whether it is here or not is also up to each of us," replied Ful before turning his gaze away from those who finished dowsing the whole village in gasoline. Shexa laughed at the innocent gesture as she proceeded to lay her insult on him. "This is the warrior you were trained to be? Your words gesture cowardice."

She pushed past him and looked at the one male Sangheili ready to deliver justice for the universe. Shexa looked down to the mother of the dead baby and picked her up by the neck. Now deep in despair, she could find no amount of physical violence threatening to her. But that would be foolish to think so. With a hard punch to the gut, she watched the mother squirm about on the floor, reaching out to her child's corpse. But before she could be granted the touch yearned by a mother towards her child, she was denied the need in a most violent way. Shexa took up her weapon hanging off by her waist and raised the sharp end to one side. "No matter the age, status or gender, everyone from this race must die. It is the only way to cleanse this universe for that is our mighty care giver's teachings. Is that not right Ful?"

"Your methods are too cruel sister."

"Then cruel it is," the Sangheili said. "Our teaching does not concern itself with…"

Shixa raised the weapon in the air and brought it to cut through a thick meat that then fell apart from the squelching of the open wound. The mother's head lied on the ground slowly losing its light. "…how we kill, but that it is right to rid parasites from this universe. Humans are a filthy parasitical race."

In a bright blaze, the fire around the village lit up. Any human found trying to escape were hunted down by the invaders. Ful could only watch in silence as he heard the screams and saw the hopelessness in the faces of his victims. By the village wall facing the warzone, their Wraiths stood guard, and any found trying to escape by climbing over the walls, or the other sides of the village were disintegrated by the Banshees. Shexa walked around amidst the burning fire like a child dancing in the rain. "No one can escape this judgement, no one."

Ful stared helplessly at the humans thrown into the fire, as they would come out crying for help. Their screams would echo in his ears, forever sending scars to his mind that it would remember for years to come. The last scream he heard was that of a young boy who lost all strength after losing his voice. The skin from his very body peeled away to reveal the disgusting innards of a human body as the Sangheilis saw it. Ful felt the blaze of what the extremists would consider pure retribution, he saw as cruel justice.

The rising storm of smoke clouded the clear skies with a black stain. Shexa looked up to the skies with content joy for her work was done, and it was thorough. _Why, why must we bear the heavy responsibility of cleansing the universe?_ Wondered Ful as he walked out of the fire's way. _The universe is a like a clam housing many pure pearls, but with purity there is impurity. Why was it our race that decided this purpose for ourselves?_

He stared at the fire now having found himself with the rest of his brothers and sister. He looked up to the sky at the thunderous noise that pierced their ears. Shexa squeezed her eyes and reached for her communicator. "Land the Banshees."

"We are about to have company?" inquired one of the flyers. Their commander agreed with urgency in her voice. One by one, they moved to land it in a relatively hidden area and moved the rest of their vehicles with the Banshees. Ful looked upwards again once his fellow soldiers joined back and saw the clouds split and a familiar ship model begin its study of the fire.

* * *

Doc looked down below to the shocking revelation and cause of the smoke. Muffins looked far off into the horizon, and could tell that the fire spread as far as the end of the village. On the surface amidst the blaze, a set of black eyes looked up in caution. They were here earlier than they had anticipated, but no matter they had succeeded in tearing down the location just as instructed. He ran to the next building over that suffered little damage from the fire and waited for yet another opportunity as he recalled his recent act.

"Should we investigate?" asked Doc who nearly cried at the prospect of the choice. Muffins shifted gears and began to trail back the way they had ventured from. "What are you doing?"

"We will warn my sexy friends and let them investigate from ground, call it in you beautiful doctor!"

"You are not even trying to be subtle or professional about this anymore, are you?"

"I was professional?!"

Doc planted his visor in his palm with a sigh and got a hold of the BGC. Simmons rallied everyone together, instantly shot down any opposition much to everyone's surprise, but to the proud gaze of Sarge and ordered for them all to immediately depart. As the cars left one by one, the Sangheilis waited patiently for an opportunity of window. The pilots looked to Shexa and with a silent voice one spoke. "Perhaps it might have been better to let us just eliminate them while we were still up in the air."

"Don't be foolish. They are sending a recon party. If we got rid of their aircraft, then that would mean we risk inciting an even bigger battle. The only thing we need to concern ourselves with right now is getting rid of their scouting party, doing so will stall the news from reaching the disgusting ears of other humans."

"Then I hope for our sake," Fal began as he saw the Pelican retreat, and in the distance were the Warthogs of the UNSC. "We are able to retrieve our vehicles in time."

"They are mere humans," Shexa reassured her brothers as she motioned for them to leave. "We are the superior race!"

* * *

 **A/N: What did you all think about this chapter and the slight shift in tone? Feedback/Criticisms are appreciated!**

 **Hope you are enjoying it so far. Catch you all next time!**

 **~ Monty**


	10. Casualties

**Chapter 9: Casualties**

"What the hell happened here?" echoed the whisper from Tucker's lips. The Warthogs came to a gentle stop at the destroyed entrance to the village. Even from here they could feel the ominous air inside it. Simmons ordered for them all to depart and asked for their AI companions to lay out the land they were dealing with.

"One moment please," Delta requested as they all accessed the Ariel footage from the pelican before. Taking the footage, Delta broke it down into binary digits which he then allowed for others to use for mapping the terrain out grid by grid. Sarge rubbed his chin piece with a heavy gruff. "I don't know if we will be able to get in there from the looks of things."

"We have to," said one of the ODSTs. "We don't exactly have a choice. Orders are absolute!"

"Maybe to you three," snickered Grif earning a hardened and dangerous glare from them. The three walked all around the orange one as if separating him from his pack to see him become a helpless puppy, an easy target. "I don't know about you guys, but I like the idea of not having a dishonorable discharge stain on my record. Maybe you don't care, but we do. Some of us have a life beyond this armor, a life we want to be able to live without trouble again."

"Listen here you-," Grif was cut short as Simmons with a gentle and reassuring grip shook his head. "Let it go, we are all here to do a job and we will get it done. We can talk about these things once we are done here. Is that understood by everyone here?!"

Over the radio, they heard the cheery familiar voice of the pelican pilot. "Stop fighting down their beauties, it breaks my youth filled heart."

"I got this Muffins," Simmons reassured and blocked the line before hearing anything he may regret having his ears encounter. Donut looked up in the air as he heard the pelican return. From above, at the top of his lungs, they could all hear the crazy German man. "Why did you block my number?!"

"Yeah, you know, we may need him," Donut suggested as he also referred to the passenger aboard the pelican. Simmons was astute enough to note that their insane doctor companion was still able to communicate. "As for Muffins, let's just say I needed some space from him."

"You have like I don't know," Grif looked up from the ground. "Like 3000 meters of space from him. How much more do you need you selfish bastard?"

"Grif, do you want to be the one leading us inside the village?" and Simmons' friend found his voice to have sailed off far away. "I thought so Grif, I thought so."

"Caboose, you stay here," said Tucker as he checked his rifle. Caboose immediately felt the uneasiness in his friend's tone and pushed for a better excuse to tell him to remain behind. Church did not want for Caboose to follow either, but with both Iowa and Caboose on their case, it made it hard for them to come up with compelling reasons. The ODSTs went ahead of anyone else. If no one was willing to take the first step, then they were ready to do so everytime. That is after all their training, to step into the face of danger with iron feet and come out alive to the other side laughing. Simmons clapped his hands as he looked at the ODSTs now entering the village with a worn out, yet irritated feeling. "Quit your arguing, and where do you three think you are going? I'm in charge here!"

"Whatever your say brave maroon leader," one of them flicked him off as they entered followed by the rest. Grif wanted to hold back his sister, but he knew not to incur Simmons' wraith for while he maybe a pushover, even he had his limits. _This is horrible_ , they all thought as they walked through the ruins ablaze. The ODSTs were quick to make notes, take pictures and capture every moment with their built in helmet cams. Sister held back her urge to puke as she saw the charred corpses. Simmons walked up to the three ODSTs and held one by the elbow. "You can defy my orders all you want outside of the battlefield, but here I want you guys to follow them."

"Let go," said the ODST as he continued his archival. "No one said you could be leader. That was something decided amongst your friends."

"And that alien baby rearing freak," added the most vocal one as he pushed past Simmons. "Oops, sorry great leader, I will make sure that doesn't happen again."

"What is your problem?" asked Tucker separating the ODST from Simmons. The bully ODST could feel a nerve pop out as his muscles flexed in a most irritated expression. "My problem is you and your friends. You guys have it easy, get taken care of by the UNSC, the royal treatment while we are out here fighting these battles. We have been fighting them longer than you, and now you are brought here, you all treat this like a walk in the park or some sort of fucking field trip. That is my problem. You people are not taking this seriously. On top of that, you helped the enemy by giving birth to one of them!"

Tucker felt a gate open, it was one of anger. He pushed the ODST down to the ground, near the fire. When he tried to get back up, Tucker rested a foot on his gut. "First of all, my son is not one of them. Say that again and I won't hold back unlike right now. Second of all, we are taking this seriously. Just because the way you do things and we do them is different doesn't mean we don't intend on accomplishing the same thing you dipshit. You hate me, fine I get it, you don't like their kind, but hating us for not taking this seriously that you decided on unfounded accusations is not cool. We are all in this for the same thing. We all want to survive and go home. Hell, none of us wanted to leave and come here, but we were drafted just like you three. So deal with us or request to transfer, because I have just had about enough with this BS."

All felt silent, even the fire. Everyone looked quite bewildered at the aqua soldier. Simmons rubbed the back of his head wondering. "Are you really Tucker?"

"The one and only, and I'm here all day ladies."

"That's him," Sister answered in disgust. Grif agreed. "She would know him best I guess being in the same base as him and all. By the way, still not cool with that."

"Gosh, get off my case big bro, I'm legal now!"

"More like rebellious," Sarge noted. "Now back on task people."

"Thanks guys," Simmons noted having felt a sense of failure. He failed to keep control over the situation, and instead he fell victim to going along with the flow like so many other times. Donut on the side with Iowa and Caboose prayed for all the dead bodies. They clapped their hands in unison, spent an equal amount of time praying and clapped again in the hopes that these people have found peace. Moving deeper into the village, the whole crew started to find the silence to be eerie. As they continued to make their way to the other side, one of the ODSTs suddenly fell to the ground. The others inspected him. His back was impaled by numerous spikes piercing through to his spine. No doubt the work of the Needler!

"Enemy attack!" shouted Church. Simmons quickly looked around to get a bearing of their surroundings. "Get to cover!"

* * *

Ful stared at his comrade who retreated under Shexa's directions. "We will now get to our vehicles while they are disjointed. We also have them in our pit now. The Banshee pilots get to their vehicles, the rest of us provide suppressing fire while moving back slowly to our own."

"Yes ma'am!" shouted the rest. The BGC and the ODSTs looked up at the commotion and witnessed their enemy first hand. The ODSTs opened fire as they ordered for the rest to do the same. "Don't let them get to their vehicles. They are headed in the direction the Pelican reported they parked their ships in."

Like a light switch flipping off, they all peeked out of cover with the barrel of their guns opening fire. With every bullet fired, the enemy withdrew further. Shexa, Ful and their comrade opened fire as the Banshee pilots succeeded in reaching the safety confines of their planes. The engines revved and the BGC backed up. The noise was a clear warning from the aliens to them, that they stood no chance. The ODSTs motioned for all to retreat, but as they were running, one ODST got picked off in his tracks by a Banshee. The others stared in terror as their comrade was completely disintegrated into nothingness to their eyes.

"Oh fuck…," Grif felt his legs turn up to an eleven as they ran fast, faster than even he thought was possible. He ran out of the village both relieved and gasping for air. The others followed quickly, desperately wishing to avoid the fate of the second ODST victim. The final ODST, the bully looked up into the sky and took out his camera footage from the helmet. He held it up towards Tucker and pushed it onto him. "Here, get it back to HQ."

"What, what about you?" asked the aqua one as he saw the Banshee come over the horizon. The ODST smirked and noted. "You people seem to have the best luck out of everyone you tend to meet. It's only natural I pass it on to you to protect it. No matter what, this must get back to HQ."

"We don't have time for this conversation!" Simmons shouted as he boarded their Warthog. Tucker pulled the ODST away as they saw the Banshees lessen the distance. "You are riding with us."

"He is what?!" Church, taken by surprise looked at his aqua friend as to whether he had lost his mind or not. He pulled Tucker close as he began driving away. "You do remember that this is the same guy giving us shit before?"

"So, you want me to leave him behind?" Tucker shot a glare from the right side of his visor. Church needed no visual confirmation for he could tell through his link with Tucker. "Sometimes you are too nice for your own good man."

The ODST stared at the aqua soldier in bewilderment himself. "Why would you be this kind after all that I have done to you?"

"We are in this hell together, so we may as well survive it together."

"But can you really work alongside me after how shitty I tried to make you feel?"

"Is that regret I sense?" Tucker said with a smile underneath his helmet. The ODST looked away in embarrassment as he did his best to keep it from being detected. Too late for him however as Church was able to get a facial recognition scan thanks to his enhanced vision. "You are still a freak for having an alien child."

"Well at least he is back to his normal self," said Church with some amusement behind his voice. He looked up and saw the Banshees now only meters away. "You may want to step on it!"

"We are going as fast as the vehicles allow for already!"

Simmons looked back and opened fire with the mounted turret. The ODST and the rest did the same. The enemy was quick to respond in kind, it opened fire nearly hitting the vehicles with every shot. The turbulence was of no help to the drivers as they stabilized the cars. Grif looked in the rear view mirror and narrowly avoided yet another enemy shot. "This isn't good, think of something O' great leader!"

"Everyone, bail!" Simmons was ready to jump as he saw the questionable looks. Grif nearly let go of the wheel in an urge to smack him. "Have you lost it?!"

"Yeah, yeah guys I don't like pain," Caboose noted just at the prospect of skidding against the rough ground. Donut agreed. "That and the fact that it would ruin my pristine shiny armor. Ugh, who can stand to even work in a dirty armor?"

"Guys, not the time!" said Simmons as he opened fire again. Having brought that one down, Simmons found himself at the mercy of air superiority. Their guns overheated, their bullets, declining fast and their hope wavering, they found themselves at the mercy of their enemy. As if in an act of guidance and protection, their Pelican came from the back and shot the remaining Banshee out of the air. Iowa looked up with the wave of his arms. "You da best Muffins!"

"And don't you forget it baby," spoke the German pilot as he turned the Pelican around. "By the way, heads up, you are going to have multiple tank bogeys headed your way, with love, Muffins."

"Oh well that sounds dandy," Sarge noted as he saw the first tank far off behind them. Simmons looked at his comrades and was just about ready to tell them to scatter to confuse the enemy, but then they would be easier pickings. "Open fire on the enemy tanks!"

Almost as if their bullets were sponge pellets, the tanks brushed off their attempts and continued the chase. With a loud burst of thunderous noise, the energy shot curved through the air, and as it fell like heavy rain, it nailed its target on the wheel. Tucker lost all steering control as the wheel came off its hinges and went about its way. With a hard landing of the gears scraping against the ground, the three men looked at one another and shouted. "Get out now!"

Donut's and Grif's car were quick to pick up the strays. The pelican flew around and began firing down at the tanks. But the enemy was not willing to sit back and accept the raining bullets. Shexa looked through her targeting reticule. "Bring that annoying bug down!"

"You sure you got this Muffins?" asked Church as he saw the Pelican de-stabilize about in the air, dancing like a bird struggling against the heavenly winds. Muffins looked to his left, then to his right immediately as he fiddled with the controls. Increased the speed, thrusted back on the throttle, decreased the speed, curved right and repeated all over again. "Oh ja, they don't have anything on my sexy bum. They know they want a piece of me, but they ain't ever gonna get it, those naughty aliens."

"Yup, he sounds like he has it under control," noted Grif as he could see the checkpoint in sight. "We are almost there!"

"Don't you dare jinx us now!" Donut screamed at the top of his lungs, nearly in an emasculated voice. Sarge looked all around and suggested that Simmons fired at the thrusters on the enemy tanks. "Sarge, you know I'm not that good of a shot!"

"You won't know until you try Simmons," he encouraged aiming his shotgun towards the enemy. "Remember, don't count yourself out, always have faith!"

"More lessons for our up and coming leader?!" Tucker noted as he felt his heart rush at the sight of the enemy tank pull up beside them. Church opened fire sticking the gun in his friend's vision. "Get that shit out of here!"

"Oh well I'm sorry that I'm just trying to save our asses," said the robotic companion. Lopez looked at the chaos with the shake of his head. He turned to Donut and demanded the following. "[Get me in position you fools. I will go take care of the tank.]"

"Now is not the time to be admiring the day Lopez, in case you forgot, we are in a warzone!" Donut exclaimed with Lopez taking out his pistol. _If I shot him right now, no one will have to know, I could say it was a freak accident, so tempting_. He restrained himself however as he could see the distance lessen between their car and the enemy tank. He released the turret much to the surprise of his companions. Donut looked into the rear view mirror at the approaching tank and with a gulp he asked. "What are you doing Lopez?"

With the quick boost from his jets, Lopez jumped off the Warthog and onto the Wraith. Shexa looked at the soldier that dared to step aboard her instrument of war. She swerved the Wraith around from left to right with immediate jolts. She could feel the gravity and momentum doing its work. Lopez however quickly activated his gravity boots that stuck him down to the metal body. He bent down and punched through the exterior. "[Eat grenade you wannabe tank.]"

He stuck a sticky grenade inside the hole and jumped off to the next Wraith. With the aid of his jets, he boosted himself onto the second Wraith. Behind the two Wraiths he could tell of the two Ghosts trailing closely. Shexa quickly jumped out of her tank just as the grenade went off. She eyed the Mexican robot, as he did the same getting a clear picture of their enemy. Just as he was about to impale Ful's tank, he found his shields drained upon the irritation from the two Ghosts. Donut took the risk and pulled up beside the Wraith. "Quickly Lopez, jump!"

Having made their escape, Ful ordered for the rest to stop. Shexa looked at her troops from afar and demanded his reasoning for ordering them so. "We need to make sure our brothers are alright before proceeding any further. We have suffered too many losses to chase down a scouting party."

"That doesn't matter, what matters is their death you foolish boy!"

"Sister!" he shouted quickly silencing her. There was an ominous weight behind his voice, as if the eeriness in his voice exponentially increased. He gathered their troops together and exited the vehicle. "Do not come talking to me about being foolish after losing the commander's vehicle. I'm not the one that allowed the enemy to escape in the first place with that surprise attack. If you had just let the Banshees handle this to begin with while inside the village, we wouldn't be here like this. Now come, we must report back."

Caboose looked to the back of their vehicles and nervously asked. "So what will we tell that nice commander man back at the base?"

"The truth," said Simmons. "As much as it is a shame we didn't complete our mission, we know that the enemy has made its way to their doorsteps, we need to let the commander know that the battlefield has stretched."

* * *

Inside of the human base, the commander stared at the map wearing a fatigued and defeated expression. _To think that the base would fall and the village as well_ , he moved towards the line of soldiers in his tent awaiting their next orders. "You no longer need to worry about the supplies we sent you with. Instead I'm assigning you with a new mission."

"We are ready," Simmons replied as he saw the commander grow silent. The ODST soldier looked at the others, worn out himself, he was left to wonder the source of their energy. The commander nodded his head in mutual respect. "I appreciate the willingness. I hope you are able to show the same once I give you your mission. Your mission will be to chase this group of Elites down and interrogate them, if that's not possible, kill them."

The others instantly felt alarms go off in their heads. They looked at one another in uncertainty as they could feel their chest pounding. Donut cleared his throat as he with a somewhat shaky voice inquired. "Go after them sir?"

"Yes, we have some information on this group you mentioned," the commander walked over to his computer and extracted all that he could. He handed the drive to Sarge. "In there is all that we know about that squad. They have been going around destroying human settlements, so they are no strangers to us. But they are a resilient bunch, so take care in confronting them. Whatever other leads you need will be left for you to find. If we come across any information, you will be informed."

 _So much for that luck_ , thought Tucker as he looked around at the clearly tired postures. Church's consciousness spoke up from within him. _What else did we expect by telling the commander everything? Honestly, we should have thought this out more_. Tucker looked at his friend to his left who maintained a forward gaze. _Well Church, not all of us can be perfect. But we did fuck up. I guess we gotta take responsibility now_. The commander looked at the whole line and inquired. "Any questions?"

No one spoke up. The officer was quick to dismiss them then. Outside of the tent, the others looked at one another dumb founded before turning their attention to Sarge and Simmons. "Well what the hell are we supposed to do now?"

"Yeah," Sister spoke up. "That commander in there was kinda hot. I don't want to leave this base!"

"Not the time," Grif spoke while tightly gripping Sister's shoulder. She found herself immediately silenced. Doc stepped forward. "I know we agreed and all in there, but honestly I'm getting cold feet right now."

"So are the rest of us I presume," noted Simmons much to everyone's surprise. Donut tapped his fingers on his arm as if expecting more. "So then why did you agree in there?"

The maroon one looked towards the red leader. The two men shared a brief moment of silence with a respectful nod. Simmons looked around at everyone. His gaze was one of confidence even if it feared uncertainty. "Because nothing would change with us just complaining about things. So rather than moaning about this, how about we try to focus on the task huh guys?"

"He does have a point," said Sarge as he stepped forward to Simmons' defense. "You boys and girls have always pulled through no matter what in the end. Remember, we have one another."

* * *

Under the open skies, a structural map of metal buildings stood. Ful and Shexa looked down at the floor while showing respect to their elder. In front of the two stood an older Sangheili. He was their direct commander. He walked around the two with disappointment glimmering from his eyes. "Raise your heads."

With his hands behind his back, he looked up out the window. "Explain your failure."

"We succeeded in our mission of destroying the village as per your instructions fathe-," before Ful could finish the sentence, he was met with a disapproving glare. "…as per your instructions sir."

"Yet the enemy that witnessed your unit and its actions escaped, why?"

"I gave the order to pursue," Shexa glared to her left at the male she referred to as younger brother. "But it seems we had some opposition in following my orders."

The commander looked at his children with quickly depleting patience. "Make some sense, or else I will force for you to soon enough."

The two children found themselves under the downtrodden stare of their father which bore heavy on their shoulders. Shexa lowered her head further. "Sir, we had engaged the humans in combat, but after losing my Wraith, Ful gave the order for others to not follow."

"Ful?" the father looked at his son with an unsurprised look. "You again, everyone leave. Ful and I need to talk."

Shexa got up with a most sinister smirk. _Whatever is coming towards you, you deserve it for royally screwing up the pursue_. Alongside the other guards, she quickly left the room and closed the door behind her. The father ordered for his son to raise his head. "Stand up and explain your choice. Depending on your explanation, be prepared to be properly reprimanded."

"Sir, I believed it was more important to ensure the safety of our own squad than to risk anymore casualties."

"At the risk of letting them get away?"

"Yes."

"And at the risk of knowing that they now know of the perpetrators behind the incident, as well as the fact that they know that the battlefield creeps closer to them? We have lost our element of surprise."

"I realize that."

"Even after all that, you are satisfied with your decision?"

"Yes," Ful looked straight into his father's eyes. With an authoritative tone he spoke. "You know I do not oppose our cause father, but my methods and Shexa's are different. There is a limit to what we should be able to do. Why should we risk anymore than necessary just to eliminate those filthy humans?"

The commander stood up as he took heavy steps towards his son. He rested a hand on his shoulder and with a surprise of intense strength; he pushed the young one against the wall. "I thought I taught you better than that. The sacrifices don't matter, only the results do."

Ful felt his world go round and round from the impact. He scoffed at the pain standing back up. "There is no victory if you do it at the risk of your comrades' lives."

The father looked rather disappointed in the back talk from Ful. He pointed a finger at him and his sister standing outside. "You and Shexa are to hunt them down. You will not return here until you find them and squeeze the very life out of their bodies. If you fail, I will ensure that your lives will be forfeit. Leave!"

With a frown of displeasure, Ful stepped out to the gazes of his squad mates. Shexa stopped him from walking past them in silence. "Well, what happened?"

He averted his gaze from her as she forced herself into his view. "We are to…hunt them down."

"Why?"

"That is my, our punishment."

"I think you mean just yours," corrected the sister as she pushed him against a wall. "Because of your screw up, the rest of us have to now help you hunt those humans down?"

"Yes."

"I…," she pushed herself away with a most displeasured look. "I did not come to this planet to go on a cat and mice hunt. I came here to bring about the glorious justice for the universe we have always meant to bring. I will not help you Ful, you brought this on yourself."

"If you do not," Ful began gathering the attention of all in his squad. "Then our lives are forfeit. That was our father's ultimatum to me."

As if in a sudden bout of anger, she kicked a nearby rock hard enough to dent one of the outer walls. "Then listen well, now you follow my orders to the letter. I do not care if you have a problem with them, I do not care if you hate me, I want obedient followers. You will follow me!"

Ful remained quiet as he simply lowered his head with everyone walking past him. He could feel their anger, their displeasure in these turn of events. _I did not come here to go on a merry chase either sister. I only wanted revenge against the human army. This retribution, justice and cleansing interests me little. But sometimes I wonder who the real scourge is._

* * *

In the human base, Simmons made his round to the others, and one by one he informed them to rest, for the task they have been given may not afford them many opportunities in the future to. He saw Sister with Grif, interacting like usual, but the knowledge that Grif cared enough for her birthday somehow shone a new light in his mind between the two. He walked over and gently bumped his fist on Grif's helmet. "So, want to make sure you stuff your face before we leave? You never know when we will just get up and go."

"Trust me, I tried," Grif noted with an irritated voice. "But they said we are only allowed limited rations because of the finite supplies."

"You should have seen him try and reason so miserably with those guys," Sister interjected with a giggle. "It was hilarious."

"You know what else will be hilarious?" asked Grif as he took her shake of the head as her answer. "Me taking this picture of Simmons that you carry around like a stalker all the time and burning it to ash."

"How did you find that?!" She suddenly froze up at the stare of the maroon soldier. "Um, I mean what picture, that is not my picture which is one of the totally hot guy."

"I don't know if I should feel flattered or creeped out," Simmons slowly backed away, although truthfully he felt flattered even if her actions rang alarms to run away. He knew best to not get involved with such crazy women. Sarge approached the group with a suggestion in mind. "Simmons, I have been reviewing the data we received from the commander here. How about we go and visit some of the old sites that were attacked?"

"You know that's asking of us to go into the heart of the battlefield, right Sarge?"

"Yup," the older man acknowledged as he looked upwards towards the sky with hopeful eyes. "But I have faith you will pull through. Look at us, we always have."

"You put too much faith in us," Grif spoke up a little jaded by how high he holds their abilities to be. "Honestly, if you ask me to drive in there, I would just turn around and get the fuck off this planet. Hell, I would just take the jets off of whatever I can find, attach it to the car and buzz off."

"I don't think it works like that," said Simmons in his usual nerdy tone. Grif crossed his arms as he stared in rebellion. "You don't know that!"

"Actually I do," Simmons replied back in a matter-of-fact tone. "It's physics dumbass."

"Hey, how dare you accuse me of being dumb?" Grif spoke back with Sister agree. "Yeah, he is plenty smart, and only an ass!"

"Shut up, not helping."

"No, I would agree with that assessment," said Church walking into the crowd with the rest. Grif looked all around wide eyed. "Jesus, where are all of you coming from. It's like you are all popping out of thin air right on queue to annoy the crap out of me."

"We missed you to Grif," Tucker replied as he crossed his arms. He looked towards their leader in training and asked. "So, what is this plan that I overheard Sarge telling you about? Sounds like suicide."

"[Nothing new with you idiots.]"

"You are right Lopez, I do need me some burritos right now," Donut mentioned with an enthusiastic nod of his head. "It's Mexican food night back home right now after all."

"Did I hear Mexican food?" Caboose perked his head up at the thought of taco. "I love me some Mexican food, and spicy ones."

"Yeah, you guys should see Caboose drink the whole bottle of tobacco sauce like it's nothing," Iowa followed up as he motioned to wave some air around him. "I don't know how he does it."

"Pure talent and raw grit I imagine ja," Muffins walked up to the gang just as he finished maintenance on the craft. "So my sexies, what comes next?"

"Suicide apparently," Church remarked sarcastically. Muffins gasped in shock as he shook his head vigorously. "No, no, no, I do not condemn suicide. I'm not into dead ones. I very much prefer my sexies to be alive."

"Wow, you just had to go there didn't you?" asked Doc. Sister quickly felt the shivers go up her spine. "Keep the creepy German man away from me, plus he is old and he stinks!"

"Seriously though guys, what other suggestions do you have?" Simmons inquired all around. He even asked it of the fragments. There was no better suggestion on the table right now, this was their only choice to try and obtain a lead. "Looks like we go with Sarge's suggestion then."

"Oh great," Doc moaned as he could already foresee this going South. Simmons asked for the fragments to mark the positions they needed to investigate on the world map. A total of six recorded locations appeared. Grif unfolded his arms as he stood up with a slight surprise. "We are going to go to all of those places?"

"Yup."

"I think you have lost it," Grif noted making a loopy gesture beside his head. "You have been hanging around Sarge too much now days haven't you Simmons?"

The cork of a shotgun quickly brought back the silence. Sarge smirked underneath the helmet as he holstered it back. "Quit your whining numb nuts and get to it. Muffins will be in the air anyways to provide us with support. Doc is there to help band aid any scratches you may get. So stop getting your panties in a bunch."

"Says you guys," Tucker replied as he slumped his shoulders. "Things are gonna go tits up, speaking of tits up, bow-chika-bow-wow!"

Sister looked at the aqua one with an exaggerated emotion of disgust. She hid behind her big brother while holding back the bile. "Keep the pervert away from me big bro!"

"What's gotten into her all of a sudden?" asked Church pointing out the abnormal behavior. Grif face palmed his visor with a heavy sigh as he pushed her out. "Her birthday is coming up soon, so she wants me to baby her."

"Aw, that's so cute," Donut clapped his hands together. "It's a shame we are not back home, otherwise I would have baked you the biggest cake ever filled with lots of pink love!"

"And I would have sang you the best ever birthday song," Caboose exclaimed with Iowa agreeing to the same. "Then we all would have eaten dinosaur eggs and called it a night!"

"As entertaining as this sounds, we should probably rest up first," Church interjected as everyone faced towards him. Simmons agreed suggesting for everyone to use this opportunity to get some sleep. They don't know how long before they would get to see another bed after all. "Also, someone go inform that ODST."

Everyone suddenly looked at Tucker. "Yeah, I thought you guys might do this to me. You know, just because he and I have exchanged words, it doesn't mean he and I are best buddies."

"And yet you are the one who has spoken most with him," Church mentioned as he patted his friend's shoulder while walking past him. "Good luck bud."

Everyone quickly dispersed. Simmons thanked Tucker one last time before heading off himself. Tucker looked at the others and restrained himself greatly from going on a mad middle finger shooting spree. "Maybe I should create a mutiny and overthrow Simmons. Then I can order others around to do this sort of shit."

"I would not advise that," Sigma appeared as the flames on his body were as bright as ever. Tucker waved the fragment off with a reassuring tone. "Relax Sig, I was just kidding."

Having reached the ODST soldier, Tucker began to explain the situation. Most others lay in bed, thinking of what is to come. Simmons sat at a work desk silently working away at the cell phone, making small progress. He looked at the bag of parts and noticed that he was halfway through them already. _Hopefully I can stock up again somewhere_. He put down the phone and looked outside at the clouds. He stretched his arms and neck and turned back around. _I should take my own advice and get some rest myself. A leader is no good to anyone if he is operating like a zombie after all_. Simmons lied down in bed and removed his helmet. He closed shut his eyes and felt the touch of young Edwards and his Grandmother Elsie standing beside him. He smiled in their general direction, the two smiled back and yet his smile was quickly replaced by a frown of guilt. He looked away and with a silent apology, he drifted off to a deep slumber.

* * *

 **A/N: That was a long chapter! What did you think about it?**

 **I guess you can now see the direction the story will take in terms of flow for a while perhaps. Feedback is much appreciated as it can help improve the overall product!**

 **I hope to catch you all again next time!**

 **~ Monty**


	11. Investigative Encounters

**Chapter 10: Investigative Encounters**

In the skies, several Banshees flew in formation. Behind them was a drop ship, the Troop Carrier. Inside of the carrier sat the two siblings, in silence they stared out. Shexa's anger still fumed with high energy. Ful looked to his right to see the despised stare of his sister. He sat up straight and faced her in an invitation for her to speak openly. "Looking at me like so will not change anything sister."

"But it makes me feel better," she answered scoffing in his direction. He lowered his gaze towards the floor in shame. "Then I shall ensure we end our hunt quickly. That way we can both get back to what we want."

"Your quest for revenge is a waste of time," she stated as if annoyed by alluding to his purpose of being here. Ful stared up at her with a sudden burst of anger. "Do not call it a waste of time Shexa!"

Every other soldier in the craft looked at the two siblings and then quickly looked away to give them some much needed room. Ful gripped the edge of his seat with his very anger as he stared out the window. Shexa gripped her hands together, looked in Ful's way at his facial features. "Our glorious purpose is endangered by your selfish quest. It also does not help that you are too soft hearted to be able to deliver any proper form of justice. You do not belong here."

"Do no judge me sister," Ful immediately retorted. "I do not do so for you."

"Hypocrite."

"Why call me such?"

"You judge me all the time," she replied recalling their latest judgement mission. "You judged me for my orders, interfered and got us all here in this position."

Ful went silent. His tongue was held from speaking anymore on this. Instead he changed the topic to something of greater interest to all in the ship. "When is the battle cruiser expected to be here?"

"In half a month," Shexa answered with some happiness in her voice. "Then we can finally begin glassing this planet, and clean the filthy footsteps left behind by the inferior humans."

"Then the war will be over," Ful echoed the words coursing through everyone's mind. Shexa looked at her brother in content. "Yes, then we will have won like we were always meant to."

"Do not let such arrogance get in the way of your decision making sister."

"I am not arrogant, it is simply the truth you foolish brother," she answered in irritation. She pointed a finger at him and in a stern voice spoke. "Make sure you do not fail us. We are so close to victory, I can feel it. We will all rejoice the day when we stand to witness the ultimate cleansing soon."

Ful squeezed shut his eyes at the prospect. He could recall the glassing of Earth from the human-covenant war as he learned of it in his childhood years. Though they had stopped and instead cooperated together to bring an end to the war. But now they are back at it again, almost as if they came around to a full circle. _Are humans and covenant always meant to be at war?_ He looked back to the society of the Sangheilis and how they had evolved. Most were content with co-existing, but some wanted more, some wanted to fulfill the old beliefs as indoctrinated into their heads before. He took in a deep breath and looked out the window. _It matters not, for in half a month, all of this will be glass and no life will be left here on the surface. Soon, judgement will be passed whether I like it or not_.

Below on the surface, the troops could see the ongoing battles. They felt their blood rush and their restraints grew thin. "I wish we could be down there to aid our brothers!"

"As do I," Shexa however commanded different. "But the commander's words are final. If we are to hunt down those humans, then we will hunt them down. Any opposition, whether it be from enemy or ally will be met with the same treatment, elimination."

Ful looked down at the violence. He too felt his blood boil at the sight. He could feel the familiar beckoning from his more primal instincts. He squeezed shut his hands and gazed to what could not even be labelled a battle, more like a slaughter. In a certain area of the battlefield, humans fell one after the other as some of their finest cut and shot down the enemy with ease. On another part, their kind struggled against one of the humans' mounted turrets, losing their brothers and sisters alike. _This is insanity at its finest. Attacking, defending, doing the same things over and over again hoping for the day of ultimate victory_.

* * *

The BGC once again stood amidst the ruins of the destroyed village. The bodies still felt fresh. Sister, Donut, Caboose and Iowa took the clue from Grif and left to investigate other aspects of the environment. Doc bent down beside one of the corpses and activated his medi tool, effectively scanning the corpse for the post mortem results. _Everything has been burnt to a crisp_ , he thought with O'Malley laughing deep in his conscience. _I always liked my meat well done_ , and Doc raised an eyebrow at the comment. "You haven't been making me do something weird while you are in control, have you O'Malley?"

"You don't need to know that, you fool."

Simmons studied the destroyed computers, and did his best to salvage whatever hard drives he could. Sarge ensured that the whole team remained on task, aiding Simmons in whatever way he could for the maroon one still held the role of the leader. Lopez analyzed the parts from the various human vehicles that still remained intact. He disassembled one of the wheels to take a few extra swivels and gears as he recalled their last battle. Church stood in the now debris filled control tower of the village. He accessed the computer systems. Inside of the computer, he could barely manage to retrieve any data. But whatever he found, all of it pointed to be video files. He extracted all the files into the local storage bank of his robotic body. _I guess having a big metal hunk of a body is useful at times_. He played the clips back in his mechanical mind. With every replay he saw a clearer picture of their enemy. One clue he was able to deduce much to his delight was a special mark on the armors. All the armors worn by those attacking this village bore a similar insignia. _That must be their squad symbol or something_. He foraged through the footage again in the hopes of making further discoveries.

* * *

Tucker bent down to the touch of a grey sandy surface. He reached inside to pick up a handful, only for it to be blown away with the wind. The ashes of the inhabitants mixed in with the environment littered the whole village, concentrated in some spots over others. He looked at the dissipating ash as it slowly becomes invisible to his eyes. Behind him stood the ODST, taking in the aftermath, just like everyone else. He stood silent at the memory of his fellow ODSTs, meeting their end here, in this village. "This is the reason those bastards should all be wiped away."

These words caught the aqua one's interest. "Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Why do you hate my kid so much when you have never met him? Why do you hate the Sangheilis so much?"

The ODST looked away from the blue soldier up to the charred trees. He gently reached out to feel the very wood peel away upon contact. "My brother…he was drafted just like me. He died fighting or more like he was killed in action. He died protecting me, and the damned Sangheilis just went home, left me to mourn the corpse of my dead brother."

Tucker slowly stood up, attentively listening to all that the ODST had to say. The military man continued upon noticing the interest. "He had a wife, two daughters. They are left without a father, and my sister-in-law is left without a husband. But the loss was too much for her I guess, their daughters live with my parents now."

"And the sister-in-law?"

"Buried beside my brother," the ODST felt his voice crack a little. He punched the tree repeatedly. "This war has taken too much. I have seen too many friends die horrible deaths in front of me."

"I don't doubt that," Tucker stepped closer, eventually standing beside the man. He shook his shoulders recollecting his memories from the events on Earth when dispatching of the terrorist organization. "I saw a lot of death. A lot of it was of the people I had come to know. They and I weren't particularly close, but it still hit hard. War hit us hard."

"Then how can you lot continue to go about so light heartedly?"

Tucker admitted that he did not know for certain. "All I can say is that we continue to maintain faith in one another. We are a family, and we are there to help one another no matter what. Even if one of us pisses the rest off, we will just hit back harder and show that we are all stuck with glue together even if they don't like it. And for the Sangheilis, not all are bad. These are extremist bastards who believe in a corrupt religion. I mean that always goes well right?"

The ODST cracked a smirk underneath the helmet and quickly turned serious again. "What difference is there between aliens? Why should I understand the difference between good and bad in their kind when they have committed unspeakable acts against ours both in the present and past?"

Tucker stopped to think a moment, pondered what the wisest of them would have said. He thought about what Washington and Carolina would have said. "We can continue to hate all we like, but that won't stop the fighting. Only understanding your enemy, their motivations and looking for the least harmful solution, one that also involves a sense of…mutual understanding can break that cycle of hate. My son never wanted to hurt any human, he grew up loving them, and I have been proud of him for that. We can all be stuck in a cycle of hate and lose our minds together, or we can choose to be better. I want to be better, I choose to be better."

"What's your point?"

"My point is that I want this dick attitude to stop," Tucker rebutted rather quickly. "I want for us all to be able to cooperate, I want for you to understand us, and I want for us all too just finish this mission quickly and find a way off this blasted rock."

The ODST quietly nodded his head as he walked around the aqua one. Tucker turned to look at the military man quickly walking out of his sight. He had a look of frustration abound, but also felt strangely successful. _At least he didn't push past me this time. Hooray for progress I guess. I wonder if booking a few strippers and inviting him over for a few drinks would change his attitude. Nah, that would be too expensive for my broke ass. I doubt a tank would impress him, oh god, I sounded like Muffins there for a moment. What a horrifying thought to have_.

* * *

Donut walked into the various pantries of the houses that remained standing. _Oh, this one looks good_. He picked up a few vegetables, canned goods and other edible items to safely stash away. Grif suddenly popped his head in unknown to Donut. "Any pudding in there?"

"Ah!" Donut nearly jumped straight out of his armor like a frightened kitten. Grif looked around inside and kicked an empty canister out of the way with greater force than he usually would. "No pudding, bummer."

Donut bent down to study the canister with a keen eye for detail. He fixed back the top half onto the bottom half with a tight squeeze. "What's bothering you Grif?"

"Was I that obvious?"

"You kind of are most of the time."

"And your powers of looking into people's moods sometimes is scary," Grif waved a finger at him as if to stop him. "So cut that creepy stuff out!"

"Are you going to tell me or not?"

Grif looked away and out in the direction of their meeting area once they had all completed their tasks. "Don't worry, with me it's the same old, same old. I just want to go home."

"Don't we all?"

Grif agreed underneath the helmet and looked up to the skies. "If only we could commandeer Muffins' ship, then I bet I could fly us out of here."

"Or crash it into trees."

"Trees out in space or the sky?" Grif asked wondering that even for Donut that was pretty dumb. Donut fumbled about in his spot as he suddenly felt a light bulb go off. "They are space trees."

"Donut, you just stick to being an expert on holes," Grif rummaged through the bag of potatoes and threw one towards his pink companion. "Those look any good?"

"Still fresh, I bet I can make a good potato stew out of them. You still haven't told me about what was really bugging you."

Grif raised an eyebrow at the words. He slowly turned around, wary of the pink one. Donut walked around the kitchen, gathering all the supplies he had deemed edible and lightweight. The orange one handed him the bag of potatoes as he then spoke up. "Fear Donut, fear is what's bugging me."

"It's natural to be afraid, right?" Donut inquired making a special mention of their surroundings. He too felt the fear that others felt, even if he himself was better at hiding it than others. Grif laughed at the idea and pointed in Caboose's general direction. "Well Caboose doesn't seem to show any signs of it."

"Caboose is a…special case. But you know, even he feels afraid."

"Yeah, yeah, it's all normal, blah, blah," Grif walked towards the door to the outside. He rested a hand on the door frame and let out a heavy sigh. "Look, I'm scared for our lives."

Donut lunged the bag of stash over his shoulders and walked towards the orange one. "We all are Grif. None of us want to bite the dust early here."

* * *

In the Troop Carrier, Ful looked at their current coordinates and the military structure that stood below them. He noticed the humans, almost like the size of ants. "What are we doing here sister? We did not get any orders to attack this base."

Shexa looked at her brother and back down to the humans. "We kill our enemies when we want, and where we want to as long as it benefits us. We do not need the expressed permission from others."

"That would break our chain of command."

"No, I do this with the intention of progressing our efforts. Doing this will not upset the commanders, and father will be able to reason with the others. Even he understands my desire and dedication to the cause. He will understand," she finished as she marked a position on the maps that were relayed to the pilots. It was their drop off. Ful studied the drop-off point. It was to be the center of the base. "Are you suggesting suicide? Would it not be more feasible for us to attack from one of the sides?"

She simply ignored the suggestion and continued. Her attention was quickly however stolen upon his next inquiry. "Why do this aside from claiming it to be for our cause?"

"Do not speak to me with such a childish tone as yours Ful," she was quick to reprimand him on his disrespect. However he was not one to let his curiosity go by. She motioned for the soldiers to grab their jet packs. "If we do not know where the enemy is, then we will flush them out towards us."

"Create enough havoc, and they will come to us. Is that your thinking?"

"Yes, precisely," she attached the jet on her back and checked the safety harness. "You are all free to bathe in their blood once we land. Do as you please with these fragile, pathetic creatures."

The side doors slowly opened as the smooth sounds were deafened by the noises of the jets. However they still maintained the element of surprise thanks to their height in the air. She motioned with an absolute command to jump. One by one the troops all left the confines of their carrier to the cool rush of the air against their hard skin.

"Sir, we have a breach!" shouted one of the military officers as he pointed at the several bogeys picked up by the radar. The commander acted fast and pushed down on the red emergency trigger. Base wide, a loud piercing alarm activated, making even the most alert of individuals jump. Everyone had their senses dialed to an eleven. Gazes went all around, alert for the enemy and ready to react fast. However, a few moments later, at the lack of any boogies, there was a growing suspicion. The Sangheilis flipped midair and activated their jets. The very sound of a thrust forced the humans to look upwards. By then it was too late for it was their time to meet judgement in the face of raining energy blasts. Death was raining down upon them all. The once clean metal floors started becoming stained by crimson. Bodies ruptured from the high energy shots. Human soldiers lost their orientation. The Sangheilis made fast progress in all directions wiping out their enemy with one soldier at a time. A brave young man, in his foolishness took out his knife as soon as his gun emptied. He ran out in the direction of the enemy siblings. "You bastards, go rot in hell!"

He jumped for Shexa, but Ful's sensitivity to the battle situation granted him the time to react, disable and ensure that the young man realized the extent of his failure. Shexa with gratitude lifted the young man into the air by his hair. She smiled at the depths of his fear and punched his face once. His nose cracked audibly, leaving a splatter of blood on her hand. She punched his face again, this time, breaking his left cheek bone. In a continued sense of ignorance, the man spit blood at her face. She wiped the blood in disgust with an angry glare. "You filthy degenerates, you dare defile a superior species?!"

Ful reached for his sister, but she shoved him down to the ground. Her blood ached to hear the screams of this young man. With a gentle grip, she rested her fingers around his left eye and in a quick motion she gripped it vigorously. As she started her retreat, the man's groans turned into cries of slight discomfort. _Let me change that_ , she thought as she applied even more strength. She noticed the veins visibly building around the eyes. With a final swift motion, she pulled out the eye out of its socket. The man fell to the ground squirming in pain, withering his strength away on it. "Help me, I- I can't see from my left side. Someone please help!"

As if bored by the man, she retrieved her pistol from the holster and shot his body multiple times before it went limp. Ful stared in silence, unable to utter a single word at the cruelty. Shexa raised her weapon past him and once again stated. "I told you all to do as you please. These are actions for our rightful justice. Do not feel any guilt for them Ful, remember your teaching."

He turned his eyes away from her and again raised his weapon. _Forgive me mother, please forgive my sins_. With the hard pull of the trigger, he mowed down over ten men. Shexa looked proudly at him and gently patted him on the back. "I knew you would have it in you, brother. Now let us go and engage these creatures once more."

The smoke cleared, the bodies lied everywhere on the streets and the floors of the buildings, and few survivors remained, but not for long. Shexa's units combed the whole base and killed any still alive. Shexa, as she walked through the massacre was halted by a strong grip on her legs. A middle aged soldier struggled to breathe as he held on tightly. His eyes glared up to the unimpressed expression on Shexa's face. He began reaching for his knife, before he was promptly stopped by Ful and disarmed. The man looked at the brutish figure to his side in horror. "Monsters, all of you are monsters."

"As you humans say," Shexa rested a foot atop the side of his skull. "It takes one to know one."

The man's body suddenly jolted with pain as she applied pressure. He could feel his brain being squeezed from all directions. The pain became unbearable, to the point he could not even scream. The noises of a bone cracking echoed from his head as Ful looked away. He knew he could not stop his sister as she was far too gone in this quest using her cruel methods. The man's hands twitched violently as if trying to force her off. But with one final push, with one final crack that violently sent the man into frenzy just before all was silent, he could have sworn he saw a bright light before being met by the darkness. The body was motionless, slowly growing cold against the ground. Shexa cleaned her boot against the ground and scoffed at the human. "Filthy! Burn everything here, they are sure to come once they hear of this incident!"

* * *

Tucker helped with the sorting of the supplies between the various Warthogs when he noticed the ODST standing by the one he approached, on his long-range communicator. On the phone like device, he could see the picture of the man in charge they had met up in the space station. The commander stared at his soldier in disappointment as he lowered his head deep in thought. "How is it that two of some of our best could have fallen so easily? Explain that soldier."

The ODST in answer lowered his own head. He looked to his right and noticed the aqua one leaning over one side of the vehicle, listening closely. Not that the ODST minded with Tucker listening to the contents of their conversation, but he felt the piercing gazes from the two men to be nerve wrecking. "We were outnumbered sir."

"You are trained to deal with such circumstances," the commander shot back. "Do not think that such measly excuses will work on me."

"Yes sir."

"Just great," the commander removed his hat, threw it on the desk and let out a heavily disappointed sigh. "This will no doubt affect my chances of getting that recommendation for a promotion. I want you to fix this mess, do it or be ready to face the consequences."

"Si-," before the ODST could say anymore, the screen went black. Tucker stared at the soldier with a loose, defeated posture and asked. "Still think that the Sangheilis are the only bad ones here?"

The ODST soldier looked away in silence, deep in thought of the abandonment by his own superior all for the sake of a promotion. He gripped the side of the Warthog with a tight hold and gritted his teeth both in fear and anger. _Is this what the death of my brother and friends mean to people like him who are in power?_ He as if in a declaration of defeat walked back into his seat like a mindless zombie. The rest came running to the two as Simmons ordered for them all to board their vehicles. Tucker stopped the maroon leader from mounting the turret and demanded answers.

Simmons forwarded everyone an image composed by Church. "This symbol on the armor, keep an eye out for it. This is what our targets are wearing. We also received other news that another attack has taken place, similar in nature to this one. The targets are theorized to be the same."

"We are going to travel to god knows how deep into the battlefield all over a theory?" Grif looked rather skeptical at his friend with the shake of his head. Sarge turned to the orange companion and asked. "You have any better ideas numb nut?"

"Uh yeah, we just make camp somewhere, bid our time, eat and get fat as hell doing it. Heck, I may even throw in some bacon there for you Sarge if you agree to do it."

"Oh, oh, how about a ten layer chocolate cake while you are at it huh?" Sister chimed in causing her brother to sigh in grief. "Sure, only if it will give you diabetes."

"There are no other options here," Simmons firmly stated as he looked all around. Church, Sarge, Donut and the ODST stood in agreement. The rest sat on the fence, constantly swinging back and forth from one side to the other. Tucker raised a hand as he questioned. "What if this is a goose chase, another cold lead?"

"Then we keep on searching," answered Church. Lopez prepped the cars to leave as he could see the clear choice. The rest knew what he was alluding to. Some reluctantly agreed, boarded the car and drove with a destination and purpose in mind. They drove towards the unknown future.

* * *

 **A/N: What did you think about the chapter? Feedback is much appreciated as it can help improve the overall product!**

 **I hope to catch you all again next time!**

 **~ Monty**


	12. Once Innocent

**Chapter 11: Once Innocent**

Simmons slowly cracked open his eyes. He felt a weightlessness to his body as it was surrounded by a pure darkness. He looked around him to find the unwelcoming chill of loneliness. _Where am I?_ He heard a patter, as if the sound of bare feet hit against a smooth metal floor. "Hey Tech Buddy!"

His eyes widened in surprise, an emotion that then turned to shock as he looked down to see the silver floor beneath his feet. In front of him, at waist level stood the young Edwards. Elsie with the aid of her cane slowly moved in their direction. Her warm smile sent shivers down his spine. _Why are you two here? You are dead_. She reached down to touch his shoulder and nodded her head in reassurance. Edwards reached deep into his pocket, and with a shining smile amidst this darkness he held out an object in his hands. "Here, I have something for you, to remember me by!"

Simmons bent down to Edwards' level and noticed the familiar communication device. He took hold of the phone and flipped the screen open. The light on the screen suddenly came to life, and a call rang through the speakers. _It works?_ Hesitant, he reached over with his thumb to answer the alert. "Hello?"

A loud noise echoed without rest, static ringed in his ears, the noise was most disturbing as it pierced the deepest recesses of his mind. But as quickly as the noise started, it stopped with a heavy breathing audible from the phone. "Tech Buddy…"

"Edwards?"

"You…let…me…die!"

Simmons suddenly found himself waking from his slumber. He looked at the orange soldier who violently shook him awake. "Ugh, is it time to switch?"

"It was time like five minutes ago," Grif motioned towards the driver's seat with a loud yawn. "But you took your sweet time waking up."

"What time is it?"

"Sorry, can't tell. Clock's still broken."

"You need to get that fixed," Simmons stood up and noticed Church in the driver's seat in the second car, and Iowa in the other. Church motioned for the maroon one to hurry. "Come on Simmons, we are burning time here."

"Wait a minute, you don't need sleep do you?" asked Grif as he made himself comfortable on the backside of the Warthog. Church shook his head. "I just liked the sensation of going to sleep. But it helps to not need sleep in times like these. It will give that aqua sex maniac there a good rest."

"Lopez must have switched by now with Muffins in the air," Simmons looked up towards the Pelican as it flew like a bird in the night sky, stable and vibrant with energy. He pressed down on the pedal, and gently began to lead the formation of the cars. He looked to his right and seemed a little relieved to find Sarge. _I'm still too reliant on him_. He turned his attention back to the front as he saw an explosion. His heart nearly skipped a beat.

"[Holly crap, did you guys see that?!]" Lopez spoke over the radio as Church stared at the rising smoke. "Yup, sure did."

Simmons nearly veered the car out of control as he looked in shock to his right. "You can understand him?!"

"Always could, I downloaded a Spanish language pack after first hearing him speak."

"So hold on," Simmons scratched the mouth piece of his helmet in deep thought. "You could have translated for him all this time so that we understand, but you chose to act just as dumbfounded as the rest of us. Why?"

"Meh, for shits and giggles."

"Church, never again."

"Nice to know that I can get on your good side too Simmons," snickered the blue soldier as he made a turn to avoid some debris on the road. "That must be from a recent battle here."

"It looks like it's still ongoing to me," Iowa mentioned as he pointed to the bright laser shots in the sky. Banshees flew in the sky picking off human tanks one by one. The mounted turrets on the tanks did little to affect the enemy's air superiority as the bullets all missed. Iowa looked up to notice the Pelican take an alternate route. He followed suite as did the others. Iowa noticed another explosion, yet another tank gone. "That's a good call Lopez, best to steer clear of that trouble."

* * *

Ful sat in a corner he claimed all to himself. Even after a day of waiting following his long battle, he felt the sensations of fatigue take him over. He looked in the direction of his sister who worked diligently to order the troops. Many sat by the stations once occupied by the humans and studied the radar readings, all in the hopes of soon meeting their targets face to face. Ful's vision blurred ever so slightly as he rubbed his eyes. _Perhaps closing my eyes for a moment or two would not hurt_. He leaned towards one of the walls and rested the side of his face against it. Sooner than expected, sleep wrapped its arms around his huge frame and dragged him towards his subconscious dream land.

The smell of flowers invaded his senses. As he opened his tiny eyes, he noticed the flowers. He reached out with his small hands, and as if taken by surprise he looked at the rest of his body. _I am young again?_ His head jerked upwards at the sudden shut of the door. In the door frame, with an inviting smile stood a female Sangheili. She had her hands interlocked by her stomach with a curious gaze towards the young one. "Do you like the flowers Ful?"

The young boy turned to the flowers and then back to his mother with an energetic nod. _I did not do that, do I not have control?_ The young boy then ran up to his mother and hugged her with a warrior's grip. Impressed, she separated him with her own steel like strength. The mother bent down by his side and gently patted his head. "Come. Let us go for a walk."

He took her hand in his and led the way hearing her laughter behind. "Slow down little one, we have time before sun sets to enjoy our walk."

 _That is correct, mother used to tell me to never go out after night fell. It was a dangerous time to be out and about_. The boy opened the door to be greeted by the sweet scented breeze. His mother closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. "Let us be thankful to this planet for granting us this beauty to experience."

The two trekked beyond the paths within the village to the grasslands. The grass reached as high as Ful's waist. He brushed his hands against the breezy, soft and mint scented grass. The smell rejuvenated his lungs and strengthened his muscles with every breath of the fresh air. The mother was not too far behind as she preferred to keep a close eye on him, for she feared losing her little one just as much any dedicated mother did. The young Ful ran around, cutting through the grass like a speeding ball and eventually fell on his back to the soft bed it created. With a loud laughter, he felt his mind at ease. The mother bent down to look at her son and playfully poked his forehead. He flicked her hand away, and with every attempt she made, he would make an equally good one to keep the hand away. She eventually reached down and held his hands in hers. "Now you cannot stop me."

"Yes I can," he giggled as he used all of his strength and pushed her away. Her face wore an impressed expression, but she knew of his limits better than anyone. She pushed back against him, more so than he could handle and eventually fell atop him. She let out a loud unexpected laugh, and picked him up in her arms. "See, you cannot so easily overpower me."

"Not right now I cannot."

"Then grow up to be strong, little one," she gently smothered his head and rested his chin against her shoulder. The young Ful looked up to meet his mother's eyes and pondered out loud. "Why did you never send me with the other kids?"

"You were born…special."

"I was born weak," Ful lowered his gaze in shame as she raised it back up. "No Ful, you may have been weaker than the rest upon birth, but you are far stronger than them now. Sadly our society is driven by the belief that those not born strong at birth are never going to be strong at all. But I know that you are strong, you grew up to be strong and you have a kind heart."

Ful looked away deep in thought as he then looked up to the white clouds which had a strong outline thanks to the sun. "Is father going to return soon?"

The mother looked up in the direction he stared in and let out a heavy breath. "I do not know. He has left to defend our village, we can only pray for his safety and a happy return."

"I miss him."

"Me too," the mother reassured the boy as he was not alone in this loneliness. She put him down and began to walk back with him. As they reached the door to their home, a loud alarm pierced through the peaceful silence of the village. Many of the Sangheilis out on the street looked up in an alerted state. They searched every inch of the blue sky with their eyes in a panic. The mother lifted up her son and ran inside the house. "We cannot go outside, do you understand Ful?!"

"Yes."

"Good, now stay by my side."

As the young one stared outside, he saw what he had learned was called a Pelican ship, designed by the humans for multiple purposes. The mother sat in one room praying for their safety while he looked back to the ship once more. He saw the bay doors open on the air craft and several soldiers exited. "Mother, there is something falling out from that ship."

The mother pulled him away from the window wide eyed at the invaders. "How could it have expanded this far? I hope you are fine dear, I shall do my best to keep our son safe in this dire time during war."

"Mother?"

"Do not worry Ful," she replied with reassurance. "I will protect you with my very life."

Both of them heard gunfire outside. Eventually they came knocking on their front door and spoke in a language he had slowly come to understand overtime. "Open this door you filth!"

The mother shoved Ful into a closet and closed the doors. Ful with all of his might managed to break the lock and saw his mother slowly moving towards the door. She gently opened it a crack, but the humans kicked it wide open and caused her to fall. Their cruel glares were an unwelcomed behavior in their household, but that mattered little when faced by the multiple barrels of their guns. One of the soldiers ordered the other to search the house for others. As if an instinct took over, she gathered her strength to her legs, used her superior abilities and jumped out of the circle of barrels. Crouched upon the counter, she leaped like a leopard upon her prey and snapped his fragile neck and left the others in disorientation. The boy watched the heart-pounding, yet graceful battle dance with a sense of awe. With her alone, she managed to eliminate nearly the whole group of soldiers. But it seems fatigue caught up to even her. The soldiers fired as she jumped from one side to the other, three bullets managed to pierce her legs which caused her balance to go awry. She landed face first against the floor. Ful almost jumped out to help her up, but stopped upon seeing the subtle hand sign. He could feel his restraints draining. The two soldiers slammed their foot against the back of her head and each took turns shooting her body until it no longer moved. Ful's eyes opened wide in shook and nearly gasped at the revelation. Now only a corpse lied before him, seeing her face now as a mangled corpse from the bullet wounds.

The soldiers spitted on the corpse before leaving, but consequences were close to follow. A thunder pierced the skies as several Covenant ships descended. The soldiers looked at one another in panic and quickly ran for the nearest exit from the village. The Banshees picked off any strays. The boy hid in his own fears as every so often he would hear the painful screams and noises of what he could only presume to be explosions. Every second he hoped that the roof would not come down collapsing atop his hiding spot, or that he would not be shot by any stray bullets. As soon as the noises stopped, and there was an eerie peace, he stepped outside of the cupboard and in true realization of the corpse, he bent down beside her. With a gentle touch, he felt her once warm body turned to a deathly chill. He took in a deep breath, and released. Again he took in a deep breath, and released. _Humans, I…I will kill them all_ , he resolved as he slowly finally realized the implication behind his mother's death. The safety net he once had, the kindness and the educator to his life was now gone. He had lost the one connection he valued so deeply aside from his father. He stood up and walked outside to the burning corpses of the humans. He saw one struggling to break free of some debris. Ful reached for the nearest piece of concrete, one that was thick in volume and quite heavy. He slowly dragged his feet towards the enemy and stood with a glare downwards. "I will kill all humans, starting with you."

He raised the concrete and smashed it hard against the skull of the human! He raised it again, and smashed his head again, it was to the point where the skin broke, skull cracked, blood escaped the wounds and the man lay still. Before he could swing one more time, he found a strong grip on his arms. It was a Sangheili, dressed in red armor, bearing an insignia. "You have heart young one, I admire that."

The older Sangheili took the concrete and threw it away. "However, if you wish to punish your enemies, do so with the correct tools."

The older one then took out his plasma pistol, and handed it to Ful. "Aim down the sight with this, pull the trigger and fire at these humans deserving of this fate."

 _Why am I remembering this now?_ Ful's voice echoed in his adult form. He looked at his small hands reach for the gun and brandished it with intrigue. The adult Sangheili bent down beside the young one, placed an arm around his shoulder and helped steady the aim. "Now just pull the trigger."

 _Just like that_ , thought the adult Ful as the human's head splattered in all direction. Blood coated the young Ful's legs as his eyes filled with vengeance. _I took a life, and opened the doors for this path_. The adult retrieved the gun with praise for the young one. "You have heart, a warrior's resolve and I am sure your parents are proud of you for it."

"My mother is dead," the young Ful answered as he glared in the direction of the dead humans. "Killed by these monsters."

As a child, Ful would have never noticed it, but he saw the spark in the adult Sangheili's eyes. It was a mystifying look, but dangerous at the same time. The adult had already earned his trust by granting him the weapon to extract vengeance on one human, and even as a young lad, Ful understood the power the adult held as he saw him commanding his troops. Ful held the adult by his arms and stopped him from walking any further towards his troops. "Take me with you."

"Why?"

"I can be of use. I will do anything as long as I get to take my vengeance on these animals."

The adult bent down to loosen Ful's grip with ease. The young one nearly squealed in pain, but held back the feelings to appear strong. However he could not stop the twitch of his eyes, a clear indication to the adult. "If you are to come with me, I will adopt you as my own. But that also means that you are to fulfill certain expectations. You will be trained in our ways. You will be taught our beliefs and be expected to partake in our religion. I will once you are capable, send you on dangerous missions."

"As long as you can get me close to these monsters."

"That is my mission, our holy mission," replied the adult. "To bring down righteous judgement to these inferior species that tends to think so highly of themselves. They are nothing but ego. So, will you join me in this holy crusade young one?"

"Yes."

"You will not be allowed to leave once you are in," the adult stressed as he pointed to all of his soldiers. "I will expect an undying level of loyalty and commitment. Do that, commit yourself to our cause and I will grant you the opportunities for vengeance and a new family. Do you still agree to follow me?"

"Yes."

The adult Sangheili nodded his head in understanding and gently rested his hand on Ful's head. "What shall I call you then?"

"Ful."

"Then from now on, you shall be known as Ful 'Mdasumee," the adult stood up and took the young one's hand in his and guided him to his ship. "Come, we have much to accomplish. You shall soon also meet your sister."

 _Why, why must I be haunted by these memories?_ From afar the scene sat the adult Ful wondering his past. He looked up at his young self just as the doors closed to the ship and was taken away to what he can now only label not as a teaching center, but an indoctrination experience. He stood up and walked onto the scene, inside the grey home that left an empty feeling inside his chest. He bent down beside the body of his mother and gently brushed her hair that sent shivers up his arm. Her whole body was cold. _I was foolish mother to have trusted father, but he gave me a new place to call home, and people who cared for me. I was foolish to break my oath of never killing for the sake of killing that I once gave to you. Can you ever forgive me?_ He closed shut his eyes to recall the sweet scent of his home.

* * *

"Wake up!"

He opened his eyes to the darkness that washed out his surroundings. All around, he heard the echo of a familiar strong, yet sweet voice. "Wake up Ful!"

 _Sister?_ He wondered as the darkness swallowed him until the senses of reality brought him back. With his eyes slowly creaking open, he met his sister's eyes and quickly regained his understanding of his surroundings. Shexa motioned towards the other troops who were in the process of changing shifts. "Stand in for me. I am going to take my break."

Silently he nodded his head and walked towards the others. She looked back at her brother's warrior frame, but could sense the disturbance within his feelings. "What bothers you Ful? I need my soldiers to be at their best."

He shook his head and silently walked away. Shexa crossed her arms with a concerned expression and walked off herself for her stomach demanded nutrition. Ful noticed the light on the horizon. _Another explosion_ , he pondered the number of deaths that may have just occurred. But just as quickly as his mind rode that route, it quickly diverged to one of self-question. _Since when did I start to ponder so quickly about death?_ But he knew the answer, he had dirtied his hands with such thoughts the moment he killed his very first human. _I am correct in doing this…am I not? I do this so that your soul may find peace mother, so that all those who fell at the hands of those humans can rest in peace. I do this for the sake of my people and our destroyed village_.

* * *

 **A/N: This was a chapter of back story. I hope you enjoyed that.**

 **How did you find that to read, and what are your thoughts on Ful's character now?**

 **Next chapter, look forward to a pretty large action sequence. Do you have any feedback for me? If so, please do not hesitate to leave it in the review section. Got any questions? Send them my way through a PM!**

 **Thank you for your continued readership and support!**

 **~ Monty**


	13. Pinkie Down

**Chapter 12: Pinkie Down**

Glares of light invaded the orange one's visor as he stirred awake. He blocked the sun with a disorientated look. "Ugh, it's day already?"

"Morning," Simmons looked in the rear view mirror with a nod as he came to a slow stop. Church noticed his aqua friend slowly awakening as well. "Sleep well bud?"

"Sure, I love back aches in the morning thanks to terrible driving," Tucker sarcastically remarked as he stretched. Church knocked Tucker's head and pointed towards the driver's seat. "You are welcomed to go back to driving if you want then."

"I will drive," announced the ODST to the surprise of the rest. Tucker rubbed the back of his neck as it recovered from a satisfying crack. "Are you sure?"

"If I'm going to be left here to fight, I may as well contribute," he stated moving into the driver's seat. Tucker took the seat beside him with an understanding nod. "Okay then, so what should we call you?"

"Do we just stick to calling you ODST dude?" Church quipped. The ODST soldier looked strongly towards Tucker, as if trying to pierce through the visor to the eyes behind it. "Call me Mike."

"Ugh, my back is killing me," Sarge complained as he stood up from his seat. "Be honest with me boys, do you think I'm getting old?"

Almost everyone but Donut and Simmons answered a solid yes. But Simmons was quick to rebuttal. "You are a fine leader sir, no such thing as getting old."

"If Doc were here, I'm sure he would disagree," Grif pointed up towards the sky. "The man's a medic after all."

"Oh please," Sister waved the idea away with the stretch of her hip. "I doubt he even knows how babies are made."

"You know, I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't," Iowa smirked underneath the visor as he switched places with Caboose. The blue soldier patted his friend on the back with a loud praise. "Good job Iowa, now you can rest, dream of big tasty things that are long, thick and juicy!"

"Um, bow-chicka-bow-wow?"

"No Tucker, just no," Church mounted the turret on the back and looked towards the reds. "Let us know when you guys are good to go."

"Yeah, I love sausage rolls!" Iowa exclaimed pulling one out as he began to chomp on it. Tucker looked a little disappointed and from up above, so did Muffins. "It would have been better if you meant the other kind of sausage Iowa dear!"

"Other kind of sausage?" Caboose wondered out loud only for Church to turn around quickly and give him a hard stare. "You don't need to know Caboose. Some things are better left unknown."

"Ugh, first thing in the morning and you guys are giving me a headache," Grif moaned as he took the driver's seat. Sister ran over with a chirpy morning voice. "How you doing big bro?!"

"Much worse now."

"Aw, that's no way to keep the spirits up Grif," spoke the pink soldier as he did his morning stretch. "Come on team, there is nothing that can stop us when we work together!"

"Please no," Grif held his forehead tightly in his palm with growing irritation. "I don't need this goody two shoes talk first thing in the morning, thank you."

Simmons made himself comfortable on the back of the car and gave a look of disapproval. "Look who woke up on the wrong side today."

"Are we ready to go or not?" Grif inquired, now agitated by their chit chat. Simmons gave the go, and quickly they were on their way. Donut looked into the distance and saw dirt flying in high volume. _Bombardment…_ , he looked to the others and shouted. "I'm looking forward to this heart pounding ride, aren't you guys?"

"If you mean the explosion," Church scanned the whole area. "Then you and I have different definitions of fun Donut."

"How long until we reach our destination boys?" Sarge looked back to the maroon soldier who kept a keen eye out towards the war territory. Simmons checked the map and had Eta do a quick calculation. "About half an hour I would say Sarge. Not too far now, put on your mean faces people!"

"You just wanted to get a chance to say that, didn't you?" Donut mused. Simmons looked away a little blushed. "I might have."

"You are such a nerd," Grif laughed nearly steering the car off course. Simmons promptly moved to punish the orange one by taking one of the many pudding cans Grif kept in one of his pouches, cracked it open and slurped it down in front of him. "No you bastard, the pudding gods shall not forgive such treachery!"

"Too bad, deal with it," Simmons grinned at what he could only imagine to be a most sad expression underneath the orange helmet. From above, they heard the increased propulsion of their Pelican. "What's going on Muffins?"

"[Incoming!]"

"What'd he say?" asked the ODST soldier, worried at the tone behind that Mexican voice. Church looked to their side and noticed several energy balls in the distance. "He said, 'incoming'!"

"Oh shit!" Grif steered the car behind a field of rock formations, others followed. Simmons looked all around with a raised eyebrow. "No one else is surprised that Church could understand Lopez?"

"Not really, no," Donut answered. Tucker agreed with a most reassuring response. "Yeah, I mean he could have always been hiding it, he is an asshat after all."

"Note to self," Church began to mumble. "Delete the thirty gigs of porn partition from Tucker's suit."

"Who said he was an asshat?!" Tucker immediately found his tone to be steered in a different direction. Grif grew even more irritated as the energy balls came close to their position. "Less talking, more action!"

The Pelican broke off from the group and did a nose dive towards the enemy. With precise fire, Lopez laced the enemy tanks with armor piercing rounds. Out of the six tanks, he destroyed two. The tanks however quickly caught on and changed their attention towards the flyer. Doc radioed in as he nearly dodged the heart attack from the enemy attack that grazed by. "Guys, go now while we keep them occupied. Let us know when you have gained enough distance."

The Pelican turned around and opened its bottom covers. From above, as if death came raining down, several bomb missiles fell and incinerated its targets. Simmons looked back and radioed back in. "Okay guys, we are clear. We are now near the destroyed base. Get back here."

* * *

"Roger that Simmons," Doc gently tapped on Lopez's shoulder who quickly turned around, expertly dodged the enemy fire and escaped before even one shot could hit them. The cars came to a halt after entering the base. All was quiet. Both Simmons and Sarge felt the unease in this silence. Simmons departed from the turret and retrieved his assault rifle. "I don't like this."

"Yes, it's too quiet," Sarge followed closely for support as he covered the rear. The rest of the crew departed and began to explore the territory themselves in pairs. The flames were out, but the smell of burnt human flesh among other things caused their senses to become alert. It was a pungent smell that none of them wished to experience. Donut brushed one of the smoldered walls, as Grif studied the destroyed chairs. The Pelican gently landed and Doc departed.

"I will wait here, if any trouble pops up, get in the open and I will pick them off…I hope," Church walked around the Warthogs, opting for guard duty. Sister and Doc walked through what they could only guess to be the remains of the previous occupants. Sister took one sniff of the smell and immediately wanted out. "Oh my god, it smells like a night of hardcore partying went bad in here, and not in a good way."

"This is horrible," Doc bent down to study the ash, his scanner was unable to pickup any intact remains of the human body. "Everything burned to ashes, probably alive."

* * *

"So Grif, feeling better after that sleep?" Donut inquired as he rummaged through a hill of messy documents. His AI companion scanned, analyzed and isolated any documents of potential importance. The orange one stood guard by the door, now fed up with this document excavation operation that Donut took on for fun. "A little, I guess."

"That's good, it's always better when everyone is together having fun with a calm mind."

"This isn't my definition of fun dude."

"Well I don't mean now. Imagine all of us out on the road, stopping by to make camp somewhere to have a sleepover together. I cook potato stew for everyone, the rest of us setup camp or just goof around and enjoy the moment for what it is. Then I Double-o Donut go on a mission to hunt the manliest hole of them all on this rock."

"Throw some meat in there and I would be in."

"Deal," Donut gave a thumb up as he then rubbed his chin piece. "We just gotta find some."

"Meh, if you guys don't mind alien…you know."

Donut stared at the orange one in silence, almost shuddered at the thought of eating alien meat, their very enemy. "I think I will pass on that offer, and I speak for the others on this matter because your master chef won't cook it!"

"Oh come on, once you get a taste for it, I'm sure it will be fine. I'm sure it tastes just like chicken."

"How do you know that?"

"Look, I was desperate okay? Those bastards at the base wouldn't give me anymore food so I ate whatever I could find. Uh, I mean what? Nothing happened, don't worry about it."

"Uh huh, yeah I'm just going to ignore those comments," Donut cleaned a soldier's cap that was buried amongst the debris and lifted it towards the barely operational lights. Grif nodded with enthusiasm. "Good idea, let's just keep this between us I guess, right buddy?"

* * *

Mike bent down by a gathered set of belongings he found for presumably multiple soldiers. He closed shut his eyes and removed his helmet as a sign of respect. _Hopefully, you are all in a better place. We will carry on this war for your sake and win!_

Tucker raised his rifle at a deep, slow and a bloated noise. "Hey, we might have company. Come on, get up."

Mike raised his rifle and followed the aqua one's lead. Slowly, with consideration they stepped forward. With every step forward, it felt like a heartbeat that counted down yet another second of their heart's timer. Both of them took a deep breath for better focus, and a calmer mind. As if like a snapping twig, a wire cut in half and retracted to both sides. The aqua soldier looked down as the one responsible and felt a rumble in the ground. Suddenly, fire rose into the sky followed by the grey smoke. Church's head spun fast towards the direction of the explosion. "Is everyone okay?!"

Simmons heard the panic in Church's voice as well as the explosion. He ran out with Sarge to see the trail of smoke in the sky. Simmons immediately got on the group wide broadcast channel. "Everyone, report!"

"Caboose and I are fine," reported Iowa, followed by Doc and then Grif. Simmons waited rather anxiously for one more group. Yet as the clocked ticked on, his worries only grew. "Tucker?"

Amidst the flame, Tucker stood with his shields protecting its master. Mike stood behind some cover, as he had managed to clear the explosion by a fair bit of distance. He kicked away the debris nearly ready to fall atop him and walked outside to see the aqua one stumbling out from a pit of hell. Mike radioed back into Simmons with a heightened sense of awareness. "We ran into an enemy bobby trap. We are fine, for now."

* * *

Simmons looked in the direction of Church. "You may want to go with that support plan of yours Church."

"Good call," he looked up and changed communications channels. "Muffins, drop it!"

"Ja, okay hun. When you see me back _atop_ you, I will be sending the present."

Church felt a shudder travel down his mechanical spine. _I didn't even think it was possible to feel this type of sensation in this body, but you have a habit of making the impossible, possible in a most perverted way, don't you Muffins?_ He ran up to a high vantage point as the Pelican circled around towards Church. From the bay doors, Muffins threw down a package. Church almost cursed under his breath as he noticed that there was no parachute. "Oh great."

With the aid of his jets, and superior mechanical strength, he boosted himself into the air and caught the case. As the case weighed him down, he fell faster than expected. He activated the jets to slow his descent, only to come to an abrupt stop that even he could feel as his joints shook from the impact. The shock absorbers held up fine thankfully for his sake.

Doc and Sister ran through the halls as they heard the rumbling within their search area. Wire by wire, they tripped each one causing several explosions to follow closely behind. The walls collapsed behind them as they felt death inching closer, and with a final push, Doc jumped out with Sister in his arms. The two landed hard against the ground, with a groan the two looked back at the destroyed section of the base as he called Simmons. "So you remember when I said we were alright? Scratch that."

"What happened?" asked the maroon one. Doc and Sister looked at one another, hoping the other would have a coherent explanation. Sarge tapped Simmons shoulder and motioned towards the ground. "The enemy might have setup traps here as well. Be on the lookout Simmons. You never know what those dastardly aliens maybe up to."

* * *

In the shadows were the Sangheilis who observed the orange and pink one exit the building. They took a hold of their weapons and waited. As the two walked into the center of an open area, the aliens stepped out into the light and opened fire on the chains from which heavy objects dangled. Donut and Grif stood back to back as high wall like debris fell all around them. Church looked in the direction of the noise. _Dammit, too much going on here!_ He stared through the scope and noticed an aiming reticule in his vision, built into the head. "What is this, why do I have a crosshair in my view?"

"To help you aim better," Sarge noted. Church tilted his head in question. "Why doesn't it pop up with the assault rifle?"

"Well you know how you have always missed every shot with seemingly only the sniper rifle?" Sarge asked holding back the words to be explicitly mean, however Church felt that the effects were still the same. "Oh fuck you guys. I can hit them if I want to."

"Prove it big man," Simmons goaded the blue leader as they quickly turned at the clanging sound of a metal pipe falling behind them.

Grif and Donut looked all around and both felt a cold sweat drop down their cheeks. Donut looked back to his orange compatriot and whispered. "Grif, I just want you to know, in case we don't make it out of here, that I always thought you were pretty cool."

"That's nice of you to say," Grif felt his eyes open wide at the number of the enemy increase atop the various debris. "I want you to know that I'm sorry I tried messing with you the first time you came to Blood Gulch with that whole thing about the head light fluid."

"It's okay, I had fun. Plus, I got to find some interesting holes along the way."

"Oh, and your habit about holes is a little disturbing," Grif raised his gun at the closest one to them. Donut turned around almost flabbergasted. "My hobby is disturbing, why did no one say anything before?!"

"Because you are our loveable idiot Donut, now get to shooting!"

The aliens as if taking that a signal to charge, all ran towards them with the might of an ogre. Grif and Donut opened fire, depleting several of their shields rather fast, however as they quickly learned, the Sangheilis were tough, and their bullets were more or less little pellets of minor discomfort. Donut pushed Grif out of the way as one charged like a raging bull from in between them. The pink one took out a handful of grenades and cracked a smile. "I've been waiting for an excuse to use these. It's time for Double-O Donut to school you all in the art of the sticky grenades!"

* * *

Church took aim for one standing still amongst his kind that stared at their orange and pink prey. "Eat this biotch!"

With a loud echo through the air, the bullet escaped the confines of the ammo clip and into the world to fulfill its one deadly purpose. Yet even with a still enemy, the bullet brushed passed him and ricocheted from metal surface to metal surface. "Oh what the hell?! That guy is standing still. How the fuck did I miss him? I'm calling bullshit!"

"And that is why Church you were given that aim assist," Tucker snickered having overheard the whole conversation. Just as Church grew irritated, his mood took a full one-hundred and eighty swing. The bullet pierced through the heads of two Sangheilis. "Haha, headshot! Take that you non-believing asshats, I can aim!"

"That was by pure luck," Doc noted as he stood beside Church with Sister. The blue leader nearly misfired in surprise as he gave a head shake of irritation. "Don't rain on my parade Doc, why can't you guys just let me be on cloud nine for at least a couple of minutes?"

"Because it's fun screwing around with you," Tucker mused with a mischievous smile. Donut threw a grenade perfectly that it attached to the head of one. He threw several others, and every grenade stuck to its target like a parasitic host. Grif fired furiously all around them, draining the enemy of its shields and with another full clip gone by the enemies go down one by one. The grenades explode, with the effects spreading to some around. Several ran around and towards them with their sharp axes out. Grif knocked Donut back with the help of his jets, and narrowly dodged a swing himself. He took his alien sword and with a quick activation he disarmed the enemy quite literally. The arm hit the ground hard, dead of any movement and the armless alien screamed in pain. Ful looked from the command center with his sister in surprise. "These are no simple prey."

"No, our own brothers and sisters are weak," she corrected as she exited the area. Ful quickly followed to ensure she didn't do anything regrettable. Tucker and Mike ran towards the direction the battle took place. Simmons studied the area carefully alongside Sarge at the increasing noise, and that also further increased their paranoia. From within the shadows behind them emerged three large towering figures. With the aliens unable to contain their growls of aggression, the two reds slowly looked back in fear. Their eyes opened wide and nearly lost all balance and feeling in their legs. Sarge quickly stood in front of Simmons who was clearly more shaken than him. "What are you doing Sarge?"

"Protecting one of my best."

"Sir," Simmons gently rested his hand on Sarge's shoulder and stepped beside him. "I won't sit back and watch."

The older man nodded with a proud grin. "See Simmons, if you believe in yourself, you can do it. Everyone can summon courage when needed."

The aliens swung their weapons down. The reds rolled out of the way and opened fire. Sarge's shotgun found some success, but Simmons' assault rifle left much to be desired. Eta did its best to track enemy movements and predict future attacks to aid its host. Simmons, using the information managed to tackle one down with additional help from his jet boosts. He punched the one on the ground repeatedly while Sarge kept the other two busy. One was quick to go down, finally worn out from the shotgun inflicted injuries. The other however persisted, and showed an iron will. Simmons head butted his opponent much to his regret as he felt his world tilt from left to right like a shaking boat. The alien took out his melee weapon, but quickly found his arm restrained with all the might the leader in training could summon. He tightly gritted his teeth and wrapped one arm around the weapon holding arm. He then lay down to the side and used his other hand to force the fingers open. While slow, he made progress thanks to his choking grip on the opponent's neck. The choke affected the Sangheili's strength as well as it quickly faded. A sudden wave of strength overtook Simmons and turned his determination to that of a beast upon seeing the fading Sangheili. He raised the sharp instrument of death and slashed it down towards its chest. He raised it again, and created another gash in the chest armor until he was finally through. The alien screamed in what Simmons could only describe as agony. In an act of finality, he planted the weapon deep into the chest past the impaled hearts. The Sangheili lied still, completely quiet. Simmons sat back almost worried. He breathed heavily pondering the recent fight. Sarge kicked his opponent in the knee and shot the other. The knee exploded from the inside, the Sangheili tipped over to the ground and held his wound with a loud agonizing scream. With a final shot to the face, Sarge stood victorious. "You just got Sarged!"

He looked towards the maroon one and helped him up. "Come on Simmons, we have to go help the others."

Simmons a little surprised began running aside Sarge. "Even Grif sir?"

"Well I mostly meant Donut, but I mean I guess we could try and help Grif to."

* * *

Church looked to his side as Sister and Doc crowded around him quite closely. "So are you two going to go down there?"

"Nope," Sis mentioned and Doc agreed. "We have had enough for one day. Plus, I'm a medic, what good is a dead medic to you guys?"

"And I don't want to die before banging more hot guys!"

"Well if you are into aliens, I'm sure plenty here will jump at the chance," Church mused only to hear a disgusted squeal. She slapped the back of his head with a pout. "Ugh, that is so disgusting, like oh my god I don't even want to think about it again. Please no, just no man, gross!"

Church took another shot, and predictably missed. "Oh I hate this piece of crap!"

"Don't blame the tool, blame the user," Doc commented only to hear Tucker's follow up. "Bow-chicka-bow-wow!"

"Have you been listening in all this time?" Sister asked. Tucker admitted to his presence. "Yup, and it's been fucking hilarious."

* * *

Grif swung his sword at several of the enemies and brought down a world of hurt. One by one, they saw their numbers fall at the hands of a madman with sticky grenades, and a crazy sword swinging weird dancer, for in their eyes, that was what Grif's poses seemed like to them. Grif tried kicking one away, but found that his physical attacks paled in comparison to the magnificence of the sword. "Bow before the might of my little friend!"

"That's what she said!" stated Tucker as he and Mike ran into the fray, killing several along the way. Mike used his skills and training to expertly slash at the enemy's shield and quickly to the neck with his knife. Tucker used his own alien sword to destroy those who stood in his way. Donut reached into the back pouch and felt the dwindling grenade supply with his hands. "Um, this is bad guys. I'm starting to run out."

Shexa pushed past her soldiers followed by Ful. She picked a few up and threw them in the direction of their enemy. With a firm kick, she knocked away Donut to the ground and left for her brother to deal with him. Grif took notice and ran towards her. But when she reached out for him, he bent down, spun around her and dodged her completely. With the help of his jets, he knocked Ful away. Grif reached out with a hand that Donut took a hold of with gratitude. "Thanks Grif."

"Are you done yet Delta?" Iowa fidgeted with concern moving from one spot to another. Like a hawk, he kept his eyes open for enemies. The green fragment popped beside him surprising the living soul out of him. "What have I told you about that before?"

"My apologies," Delta pointed towards Caboose who assumed a relaxed meditation pose. "I'm almost done. It takes me much longer than Epsilon due to my more analytical nature rather than emotional. I have also not had a chance to use this trick in a real combat scenario."

"Great, hoping it goes well," Iowa heard the increasing noises of the violence. He turned to the green one with urgency present behind his visor. Delta turned to Caboose who slowly stood up and lifted his arms in the air. Iowa noticed the sudden change in posture, the strength in his whole body shined as bright as the sun. "Caboose?"

"My name is Micheal J. Caboose, and I'm here to wreck your shit!" announced the dark blue one as he ran through the debris as if it were a bunch of plastic building blocks. Church looked through the scope as he heard the roars of a lion. Caboose flew up with ease and growled with anticipation of the landing. Church looked up in surprise. "Well I'll be damned. So you finally used what I taught you eh Delta?"

Caboose landed in the middle of the battle zone as the hard landing caused a small shockwave. Those around him fell to his mercy, he was quick to establish dominance as he lifted one with his bare hands and threw him like a ball at the others. One by one, they caught themselves catching one another and losing balance as the energy of the throw travelled from one Sangheili to the next. Shexa kicked Grif down and then proceeded to lift him up by his neck. Before he could swing once again, she took his arm into a tight grip. Tucker jumped in to help with that situation as he nearly chopped her hand off clean. But her instincts guided her far better as a warrior. She threw the orange one at the aqua soldier and dodged out of the way. Tucker rested Grif against one of the debris and quickly resumed his sword swings. Mike trid to kick Ful away from himself, but instead found himself to be pushed back. Donut and Mike then punched from both his sides. In an unexpected development, the two found Ful to be keeping up with both their attacks at the same time as he not only blocked, but also countered enough to slowly build up their fatigue and damage. Caboose punched his way through all who opposed him and eventually reached the inner circle of the fight. He kicked Shexa away from his two friends who looked up in shock. Caboose cracked his knuckles and slowly walked in her direction. "No one hurts my friends and gets away with it. It's time for you to be educated!"

The female leader held her side and slowly stood up with a groan. _How could a human inflict this much damage onto me with one kick?_ She was helped up by her comrades who were quickly ordered to fall back. "It is time to activate it."

The aliens one by one started to retreat. Ful was the last as he broke free his hold on Mike. Tucker screamed with excitement with his sword in the air. "Yeah, you assholes better run!"

* * *

Caboose began his chase, so did Grif. Donut quickly stopped the two. "Where are you going? This is our chance to get out of here! We are outmatched right now."

"Nonsense!" Grif pushed past the pink soldier who quickly followed with the others. "We have Caboose on our side who is basically like a raging bull right now. Plus Tucker and I have our swords, what is there to run away from?"

Simmons and Sarge finally joined up with the rest on the battlefield and followed the noise. They eventually came upon the scene of them surrounded yet again. Shexa, Ful and their soldiers closed the way off behind them. Sarge looked around for an efficient way of opening the route and noticed a dangling object. He patted Simmons on the chest and pointed towards the deadly dangling car. Simmons followed its trajectory straight down to where Grif and the others stood!

Shexa retrieved her pistol and aimed it and the group, and then slowly up towards the metal chains. Simmons nearly felt his heart break out of his chest at the horrifying thought. "Watch out above you guys!"

The Sangheilis turned with their weapons drawn, they opened fire and Shexa fired promptly at the chains. Donut looked up with his eyes widened as did the rest. Caboose, Tucker and Mike were quick to react by jumping out of the way. Grif stood frozen in one spot. Donut was not an ignorant fool as he shook his friend violently. The final chain broke and the car began its descent. In a last ditch effort, he pushed the orange one out of the way, and with a heavy impact the car landed against a now scorched land. Grif fell back with a grunt, discomforted by the minor scratches.

"You have a clear shot Lopez," Doc commented as he observed the developing situation with a cold sweat. The Pelican descended and as if bringing down the justice from the very heavens themselves, it mowed down a great many. Shexa ordered the full retreat of her soldiers. As quickly as they had come, they were gone. Grif looked at the dust as it cleared and noticed the huge crater in the ground. "Donut?"

He slowly stood up to notice the others standing around the crater. "What's going on?"

Simmons and Sarge quickly ran down to the others and felt the gloom. Grif walked closer to the crater, inside he finally noticed. "Oh no…"

"What happened?" Simmons inquired as he walked closer himself. The sight caused his rifle to slip, and his heart to nearly stop and flat line. Within the crater, the metal frame of the car stood upright with the front crushed from the impact, squished backwards. Underneath the car was a splatter of blood, spread all around with the pink armored soldier laying still on his stomach. There was no noise, all felt silent for the red team. Simmons ran towards the car and began to lift it with little success. Grif came to his aid and with both of them they managed to tilt it away from the body. Just as Grif bent down to the panic exuded by the maroon soldier, Sarge restrained his student. Simmons looked back and forth from the body to the red leader. "What are you doing Sarge, Donut, he-"

"Shaking him like that won't help Simmons," the older man stated as he looked towards the large hill of debris. "Doc, get down here, we need you. It's an emergency."

* * *

 **A/N: So how'd you all like that chapter? Remember how I had said that this is war, I really meant it as no one is going to get off Scott free from this. War does not discriminate after all, it affects all equally to some measure.**

 **Feedback on the chapter is much appreciated as this was technically the first big action sequence of the story. Thank you for your support and readership, I hope to see you all the next time around as well!**

 **~ Monty**


	14. Consequences

**Chapter 13: Consequence**

A green glow covered Donut's damaged body. The Medi Scanner went up and down from head to toe while others did their best to apply pressures on various points to his body. Simmons sat to one side with his head held in his hands. His mind was ready to scream in a fit of anger, and his worries only amplified with every passing second. Doc looked at the growing results with grave concern as more alert symbols popped up. Grif took in a deep breath alongside Simmons as he felt his whole body shake. _My fault, it was my fault_. He looked to his left and saw Sarge standing calmly, doing what Simmons could not in this situation, and that was to guide everyone towards a hopeful resolution.

Tucker and Church helped Caboose and Iowa with instructing them on how to properly apply pressure. Sister stood on the side, watching helplessly in fear of the sight, but did her best to help cheer others on. Doc finished the scan and looked up to Sarge with the shake of his head. It was serious, very serious. "We need to move him to some place I can patch him up properly."

"We are not near any hospital," said Iowa. Church agreed and pointed to several of the buildings. "You are going to have to work with what you got Doc."

The purple medic stood up and studied the various structures. "Which one seemed to be the most clear of debris when you guys checked them out?"

"Probably ours," said Sarge as he volunteered to lead the way. He looked back to his other two red soldiers and patted them both on the shoulders. "Come on, we are moving."

"Yes…sir," Simmons slowly answered as he picked himself and dragged his feet to the building. Grif simply ignored the comments and sat with his head dug deep in between his knees and chest. _I…what do I say to him now?_ He shifted in his spot, lifted his head to find himself all alone. Grif stood up to look towards the building Sarge talked of. He walked forward and saw his own reflection in one of the metal walls, as if in a surge of anger he kicked a pile of debris away. Yet predictably so, the orange one fell to the ground holding his foot in pain. He nearly screamed in a fit of fury, but held back for the sake of his family. Sister walked out to the commotion and looked into her brother's visor. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to cry."

"Cry?"

"Yeah, to make myself feel better I guess," he looked at his foot and bent the various fingers. Nothing seemed broken. Sister nearly slapped the back of his helmet and scolded him. "Get a hold of yourself big bro, Donut is in there and needs all the help he can get right now. You getting angry here by yourself doesn't help!"

He stood up and gently pushed her aside. He began stumbling away, even ignoring her pleas for him to stay. "At least tell me where you are going!"

"I don't know," he answered with a downed voice, one that screamed his mind being on the verge of jumping into depression. He used the walls as support and disappeared around a corner. Sister shook her head and breathed deeply. _I hope you don't do anything you may regret later big brother_. She went back inside to see Doc busy at work with patching up the open wounds on Donut's body."Someone get me my second bag of bandages!"

Muffins rushed over having brought over all the medical supplies from the Pelican. Doc quickly and precisely took the required amount, with care he applied it to the wound just as Church finished taking last of the armor off. Doc motioned towards Donut's neck. "Tucker, check his pulse."

"What am I looking for?" Tucker was already there by Doc's side, ready to comply.

"Is his pulse stable?"

Tucker moved fast, he placed his two fingers against the start of the neck from the head and felt a little bump, going in and out. "It feels like he is breathing fine."

"That's good," Doc studied another open wound and felt his wits leave him momentarily. "This wound is too big to patch up so easily. I need the stitches!"

"Oh here you go my hero Doc!" Muffins shouted as he threw a freshly unwrapped roll. Doc applied some anesthetic to the area before inserting in the heated needle. With expert craftsmanship, he sealed the wound shut in the hopes it would not reopen for the stitch thread felt weak in quality. Sister sat to the side impressed by the medic's skills. "I gotta say Doc, I didn't think you would know this much."

"Great to see I'm so appreciated in this group," he noted as he finished cleaning the area of any excess blood. Doc took a clean wet cloth and proceeded to clean his hands. He walked over to the nearest disposal bin and threw away the bloodied and unusable remains from his work. Both Tucker and Church looked at their maroon companion, worried for his mental wellbeing. Caboose stood up asked. "Where is Grif?"

Tucker shook his head in disappointment at the missing presence. "I will go look for him."

He gently bumped Church on the arm and motioned towards Simmons. Church looked dumbfounded as Tucker left. _What am I supposed to say to him at a time like this?_ He looked to Caboose and Iowa for help. "Guys, let's go do something for Simmons."

* * *

Tucker followed Sigma's directions as the fragment kept in contact with Gamma. He walked past the debris where their battle took place. By the crater he noticed the orange one, down on his knees, and quiet to the point of being deep in thought. Above them, the dark grey clouds began to slowly gather. Tucker looked up indifferent to the changing weather. _Looks like it might rain soon_. He approached the orange comrade and looked into the crater where Donut's blood still remained. "What's going on with you Grif?"

Grif peeked from the side of his eyes and simply grunted. Tucker crossed his arms with a huge nod. "Hmm, okay, that was very descriptive. I totally understood all of that, man you and I must be speaking on the same wavelength of grunting bullshit here right now."

"What do you want Tucker?"

"I want to find out why you are all of a sudden down in the dumps."

Grif shook his head as he stared at his shaky hands. "It's all my fault, none of this would have happened if I had only…dammit."

"You are not making sense man."

Grif remained silent. Tucker sat down on his bottom and looked up towards the grey clouds that just closed of the small hole of sunlight that had remained. "You know, when Donut wakes up, I'm sure he would want to see you there."

"But I can't bear the thought of seeing him face to face," Grif moaned as he quickly received a smack on the back of his head. Tucker lifted his hands in questioning gesture. "Why would you even say that? This is Donut we are talking about. I'm sure that once you see him, you will feel better."

"No, my guilt will only push harder to escape my body and come to light."

"Grif, if you can't tell us clearly why you feel guilty, then none of us can help you, you realize that right?"

The orange one looked away. Tucker looked at his fragmented fire companion. "Tell me Sigs, what would you do in this situation?"

"I am afraid that I cannot comment. This is a situation out of our control without us even causing such a development."

"Oh great," Tucker scoffed at the fragment's response. He stood up and gently rested a hand on Grif's shoulder. "Look, if you ever want to join us, then you know where we are. If you can find the courage to talk to us about whatever it is bothering you, then even better. Heck, if you do, I may even throw in an offer for a night party filled with strippers, I mean what man does not get turned on by those hotties?!"

* * *

In the air, as the Covenant drop ships broke past the grey clouds into a field clear blue sky, Ful was left to mourn the loss of his comrades. He looked around to see the damaged state his brothers and sisters were in and Shexa who sat in the corner without regret or thinking of the consequences. He noticed a similar state in the other drop ships. _Who would have thought that our foes would be this strong?_ He stood up and with steady feet, made his way to the free seat next to Shexa. "What is our next move?"

"We do the same thing, draw them towards us and fight."

"Did you not notice the outcome of our previous battle with them?" asked Ful nearly flabbergasted at the indifference she showed. Shexa scoffed at his response with one of her own. "We defeated one of them."

"One of many," he retorted with an angry glare. "And that took how many losses on our side to achieve? Father will be disappointed to say the least."

"He will understand once we present the heads of the others."

Ful noticed the radios activate as the pilot reported. "Commander, we have found the next target."

"Bring it up on screen," she activated the holographic projector and studied the terrain. "This will do. I want all of you ready to drop in five minutes, even those who are injured."

"What?" Ful stepped in between her and the map with a sense of urgency. "What are you thinking sister? They need to rest. No one is any good to anyone dead!"

"They can rest once we have killed our targets."

"How are we supposed to do that when our own soldiers are broken and beaten?!"

"Then they can go blow themselves up in front of the enemy, at least they will be proving they are useful for something that way!"

The rest of the soldiers sat looking back and forth from the siblings in shock. The more time that was spent with Shexa, the more they came to relate with Ful's thinking. Shexa pointed to one of the younger, but harmed Sangheili and motioned down towards the base. "If anything, he should be proud to serve our cause this way. We have the holy right to destroy our enemies, and it is our duty to not rest until we have fulfilled our mission. God bestowed his kindness upon us by granting us strength, now we must make use of that strength."

"To oppress?" one of the soldiers asked. All went silent. Shexa's eyes shot wide open in a fit of anger. She slowly turned her head towards the group of soldiers from which the noise came from. With a slow, methodical walk, she glared down at each and every one of them. "Who was it, who was it that just said that?!"

Taken in by fear, the perpetrator was quickly revealed by whom he once thought to be his friends. Shexa reached down to grab the young soldier by his collar and planted his face against the window. "See that? Those monsters will kill us if we do not kill them first!"

Shexa reached for the intercom all the while opening the side doors. "Stop the ship here, we are dropping."

"From this height?" Ful inquired looking at the broken arms and various other injuries of his fellow soldiers. "This is foolish sister."

She ordered for others to put on their jet packs. The young soldier squirmed against her grip only for it to tighten. He began to fight it, but she quickly subdued him. "You need to be re-educated. You chose to support our cause. You have clearly failed by questioning my orders which only serve the cause."

Shexa reached into one of the compartments and took out a circular, thin object. With a quick forceful motion, she stuck it onto his chest, spun the disk and watched the lights on the sides blink. The young soldier panicked, and even with all his strength he was unable to remove it. She leaned in close while slowly inching him closer to the edge of the exit. "Take comfort knowing that you shall serve in the highest magnitude to our cause with your body young one. You shall be the beacon of fire in our assault, thank you for believing with us."

With one final push, the young one fell through the air. The others stood in shock, as she never gave him the chance to retrieve a jet pack. He was simply made a sacrificial lamb. Ful nearly punched his sister in this outrageous act of extremist beliefs. Shexa noticed the fearful looks and with satisfaction ordered for the rest to jump. "And if anyone is found to disobey or question me like that again, then you shall meet the same fate."

The soldiers on the ground stared up at the constant, yet increasingly louder screaming. At one point, they only saw a black dot in the sky, until it got close enough for them to make out an alien form, falling without control. The soldiers quickly raised the alarms and everyone reached their battle stations. But before they could intercept the falling one, he hit the ground hard, with his bones and organs shattered beyond repair. His body lay splattered in different directions as if like a splash of water. But the bomb on him acted fast upon countdown to add to the mess as the particles inside were excited enough to cause a fury of fire around his body, burning the alien's body to ashes. The soldiers stared at the rising smoke from the fire and took note of the increasing numbers. Many of them felt their courage leave their bodies in favor of cowardice. The air vehicles swooped down to pick off as many as they could. It was yet another onslaught which Ful and now many others in his rank found themselves questioning.

* * *

Doc returned to where Donut rested and found Sarge attentively keeping order amongst the others. He approached the older man with quiet footsteps and gathered his attention. "Can I talk with you Sarge, it's important. It's about Donut."

"Sure, what is it Doc?"

"Can we talk in private?"

Sarge suddenly felt a wave of worry wash him over, but he kept his composure. With a silent nod, the two men were out of the area, and Simmons was left to ponder his failure alone. But not long before Iowa, Caboose and Church approached him. The three towered over him like giant trees in a forest. Simmons stared up at the three with a raised eyebrow. "Can I help you guys?"

"We were just hoping to talk," Iowa stated with Caboose excitedly nodding. Simmons looked back down in a dejected tone. "Now is not a good time."

"When will be a good time?" asked Church as he sat down beside the maroon leader. "You know, we may not get another time like this, well not with the circumstance we are in."

"Yeah," Caboose agreed raising his fist in the air. "We should talk about our feelings whenever we can so we can help one another, be happy and all sing songs together!"

Iowa held out a bag towards Simmons. The maroon soldier looked at the bag and took it in a firm grip. He felt sharp and hard parts within the bag. "What is this?"

"Something to help you with your restoration project," Church said as he made an improvised phone hand signal. "Eta told me before about how you are trying to fix the phone Edwards gave you and that you were running out of parts. I figured that we could get you some more parts. But we don't know if these are the ones you need since that is an old phone and all of us aren't exactly wizards with this sort of stuff."

"No," Simmons smiled underneath his helmet. "This is great, thanks guys."

Caboose and Iowa high fived one another in a happy squeal, but they were quickly silenced by Sister for the patient's sake. Church stared at the phone as Simmons flipped it open. "I'm sorry I'm worrying you guys so much."

"Don't be sorry," Church motioned towards the three of them. "But if there is something bothering you, talk it out with one of us, or at least with Sarge."

"Yeah, you are right," Simmons looked in the direction Sarge had left in. "Once he is back, I will talk it out with him. Sulking around like this won't help any of us in these circumstances."

Mike stared at the group from afar, taking a seat by Sister. "Are they always like this?"

"I don't know about always, but I would say we are a pretty close group," she squeezed any sweat from the towel on Donut's forehead and dunked in cool water. After neatly folding it, she gently placed it on his forehead once again. Mike then looked at Tucker who just entered and approached the two of them. "How is he, did Doc say anything else?"

Sister shook her head. "Just that he went to talk with Sarge, it sounded serious."

"Hopefully not too serious," Tucker replied as he crossed his arms and sat down to the other side of Donut. Mike breathed out a heavy sigh as he stared at the calm expression on their injured comrade. "This is what it is always like for you guys too, isn't it?"

"Huh?" Sister looked at Mike with a tilted head in question. He looked towards the two, back and forth and expanded on his previous statement. "I mean this constant worry of an enemy being able to attack at any moment, or that your comrade may never wake up again."

"Don't say such a thing," Sister retorted immediately. Tucker agreed. "Yeah man, don't jinx us. We just gotta believe he will push through."

* * *

Grif walked into the area, avoiding the direction in which Donut rested in. He took a seat beside Simmons, the two men remained quiet, and both lost within their own thoughts. Both however looked up at the stirred noises that escaped the pink one's mouth. Tucker, Sister and Mike leaned over to look at the patient in the eyes. Donut slowly came to as his vision cleared. "Tucker?"

"Yup, how you doing Donut?"

"Hey, don't forget about me!" Sister pouted as she puffed up her cheeks resulting in his laughter. Both Simmons and Grif felt some relief. _He looks like he is back to his normal self_. Donut looked to his left and found his two comrades sitting to the side. Simmons and Grif both gave a silent wave. But their worries quickly returned when they saw a strange expression on Donut's face. He looked down at his body with a strained expression, as if he tried his hardest to move. "What going on?"

"What's wrong?" asked Caboose as he and Iowa along with Church rushed to his side. Donut looked to the others and down at his own body in worry now. "My body, it won't move."

"What?" Grif stood up as did Simmons. The two men walked over in silence as Donut tried once again. Simmons could feel the guilt return, as did Grif. The two men fell to their knees. While Grif was at a complete loss, Simmons looked around in a panic. "D- Doc, where is he? Doc!"

"I'm here!" the purple medic came running as soon as he heard Simmons' voice. "What's going on?"

He noticed the situation and quickly restrained Donut from moving. Simmons moved closer, almost too close for comfort for the medic. "What's going on Doc, why can't he move?!"

The purple one stared at his pink friend with a long drawn out silence. Grif pushed past Simmons and held the medic by his collar. "What is it?"

"He…," Doc looked up towards the others and immediately looked away. He struggled hard to hold back the familiar sensation of O'Malley's control for he did not wish to make the situation any worse. "Donut, you are…paralyzed from the neck down."

"What?" the rest spoke in unison, just as shocked and confused as Simmons and Grif. Grif fell down on his butt, only held up by his Sister. "H- How did this happen?"

"That car frame he got hit by," Doc began to explain as he understood. "I imagine the shield took most of the impact. But there was still enough force to break through his armor and shatter his spine."

Sarge walked in quietly at the developed scene. He separated the other two reds from the commotion and sat them to the side. "As you all heard, we need to evac him to the nearest hospital."

"Can't you do something about it here?" Tucker asked while looking at the pink one who stared at them all with worry, but also with a sense of hope. Doc shook his head. "I'm just a field medic, Donut will need a specialized doctor for this, someone who it able to carry out the delicate operation to recreate the spine."

"You heard the man," Sarge walked around the group, and pointed in various directions. "Go gather supplies everyone. We will then depart with Donut. He isn't going to go alone."

"Why not go right away?!" asked Tucker as he stood up to Sarge's level. Sarge gently kept Tucker at an arm's length feeling the tension in his voice. "Because if we do, then we run the risk of running our supplies thin. Donut is already down, the rest of us getting sick from a lack of nutrition or water wouldn't help. We have to stay in top form, if not for ourselves then for Donut at least."

Tucker sat back down, quietly having understood that even to Sarge this was an event of great impact. He soon saw just how much this had impacted Sarge as the man's hands trembled. The red leader bent down beside Donut and rested a hand on his shoulder. Donut looked to his side in worry and shook his head. "Sarge, I can't feel your hand…"

Donut's voice had cracked a little when he spoke. Everyone looked away out of pity for their loveable pink idiot had been reduced to a cripple at this point. Sarge nodded his head in understanding and continued to give a look of respect and admiration for his friend. "Donut, we will get you out of here and get you the best help we possibly can."

"Damn right," Church stated with Tucker agreeing. "And once you are all better, let's go get all the women we can. I know, we can make a harem quest out of it."

"Pfft, says the guy who has never gotten it on with a girl before," Sister giggled loudly to the displeasure of the aqua soldier. Caboose clapped his hands with Iowa following suite. "We can also throw a huge party once we get back to Blood Gulch. We all deserve a good break from the boring adult stuff after all!"

Mike smiled at the warmth he felt from the group at the moment. _So this is what Tucker meant by their belief in one another. They really are a very close knit group. I hope you get better to Donut. We need every man in this fight to not only have a chance at surviving, but also to keep up our spirits_. Doc separated out the group from Donut. "Alright guys, let's give him some room here. He needs rest. Donut, I'm going to be giving you something to relax with. The less you move, the better, alright?"

Donut agreed, but before the medicine kicked in and he fell asleep, he spoke in his chirpy tone. "Thanks everyone, I would love to go out and have fun with everyone once I'm all better. We can all go some place we have never been to together. It will be a new experience."

Sarge walked towards his other two red comrades and motioned for Grif to leave. "Go gather clean water outside Grif. It's started to rain. This would be a good time to gather some for our upcoming journey."

* * *

The orange one looked in disbelief, but Sarge's stern stare was enough to tell him not to back talk. He quickly stood up reluctantly, and left with a large bucket in arm. Sarge sat down beside his student and patiently asked. "What's going on Simmons, what's bothering you?"

The maroon one smiled pathetically underneath his helmet. _That transparent am I?_ He looked to his mentor and began to speak in a nearly cracked voice. Sarge could tell Simmons had treaded into a bad territory. "Sir, Donut got hurt while I was in charge. No, not just hurt but possibly beyond repair now."

The elderly man listened closely without so much as saying a word in response. Simmons looked down at his hands as he flexed his fingers in a surging flood of rough, saddening and harsh feelings. He could feel his anger aching to escape his body. "It was my fault this happened. I should have been a better leader. I should have planned things out better."

Before he could speak any further, Sarge promptly placed a hand on his student's shoulder and in a strict tone he spoke. "Don't do this to yourself Simmons. This is a trap all leaders who give even a lick about those who follow them tend to fall into if they don't manage their own feelings well alongside their group."

Simmons looked in disbelief as he shook his head. "But then what else am I supposed to do?!"

"It wasn't anyone's fault here that this happened," Sarge retorted as he looked at their pink comrade. "Donut fought bravely out there, and it was the enemy that caused this to happen. I'm sure he would have fought out there for you no matter what. But the enemy were the ones with that damn trap. It isn't our fault, if anything; we have to pay back the enemy now ten folds."

"But Sarge, how do you ever manage to deal with people dying under your command?"

"To be honest with you Simmons," the red leader retreated into his own personal space as he gripped his knees tightly, almost as if lost in thought. "I still do hear their voices sometimes in my sleep. We can all say that we can deal with it, but it's easier said than done. When you have someone's death on your hands, it's never really easy to forget that unless you just don't give a damn, or fanatically believe in your actions."

Simmons sat up a little astounded at the depth of seemingly Sarge's sadness. The red leader stood up and stretched his neck. "We better go check up on Grif, gotta make sure he isn't slacking off."

"I think he is in need of a talk as well," Simmons added with Sarge fully understanding what he meant. The two men left the area to find the orange one outside sitting beside the bucket in the rain. Simmons shouted out to his friend before taking a step in the showers. "Grif, what are you doing getting soaked?!"

Lost in an endless sense of falling within his own mind with the images of their battle replaying, Grif ignored all cries directed towards him. Simmons and Sarge finally entered the cold shower as they took note of the overflowed bucket. Simmons bent down and shook his friend back to reality. "What are you doing just sitting here? The bucket's full."

"Oh…," Grif gently picked it up and looked at the still overflowing water. "My bad…"

The three slowly entered the base and were greeted by a very dissatisfied Sister. "Look at you three, all drenched. Don't think you are setting a foot in here like that and making everything messy and gross."

"It's just water," Simmons commented, but immediately shut up at the glare he received. Sarge took the clothes from Sister she offered and threw them atop his two red soldiers. "Quit your complaining boys, just dry off."

While the two proceeded with their drying ritual, Grif stood motionless with the bucket in his hands. Sister took notice and sighed in frustration. "Come on, what is going on with you big bro?"

She helped him dry off, and without a word of protest he stood there letting her do as she pleased to everyone's surprise. With a firm grip and a pull, she recovered the bucket of water and went outside to put up a few more. Church and Tucker looked in their direction rather worried. Tucker motioned towards the reds and asked. "Do you think there is anything we can do for them?"

"We should just wait and see what happens. If it looks like things are going south, we can then maybe step in," Church answered as he noticed Sarge trying to talk some sense into Grif. The orange soldier sat down with the other two and felt the overbearing atmosphere. Sarge opted to break the ice. "Talk to us Grif, if you don't talk to us, then who will you talk to?"

The orange soldier looked in Donut's direction and chuckled in self pity. "It's my fault."

"What is?" asked Simmons as Grif then pointed towards Donut. Simmons looked back in confusion. Grif looked out towards the large entrance from which Sister emerged carrying five buckets of water. He pointed in the direction of their battlefield. "Out there, he had tried to tell me to stop, he told me to not chase them, that they are retreating and we have a chance to leave as well. I didn't listen. Sarge, back on Blood Gulch I told you I wanted to change, I wanted to be less passive and this is the damn result. Donut wouldn't be in this position if it weren't for me."

"What?" Simmons stood up looking back and forth from the pink to the orange. "But that trap was set up by the enemy, he ran…no…"

Grif backed off a little knowing full well of the anger behind Simmons' visor. Before the maroon one could stomp towards Grif, he was held back by Sarge. "You god damn idiot! How could you let this happen Grif, how?!"

"You are right, I'm a fucking idiot!" he shouted back as he felt his mind tear itself apart from the racking guilt. "What the hell do I do about him now?!"

"Why don't you give him your spine and feel how it is like to be in that position hum?!" Simmons shouted back only to be quickly reprimanded by their leader. "Stand down Simmons!"

The maroon one looked at Sarge rather shocked. But he quickly regained his senses, and his anger was pushed back into its dark depths. Sarge ordered for him to leave the two of them alone. Tucker happily invited Simmons over to help take his mind off the conflict with some small talk. Grif however sat down, nearly breaking down into tears. Sister could only watch from afar as she knew she would be of no help right now. Sarge sat back down and leaned in close. "What caused you to get so impatient in wanting to change Grif that this happened?"

"I don't know," he responded sniffing in silence. "I guess I was fed up with my passivity in taking actions to change as well."

"Change has to come at an adequate pace. It comes with time and experience," Sarge lectured pointing towards all of them. "You have all changed throughout our time together. But you never forced it on yourselves, it happened naturally as long as you were open to it. But you Grif, you just made the mistake of trying to force it. Don't do that ever again, otherwise Donut maybe the best case scenario."

Sarge leaned down to look up into Grif's visor. "Do you understand Grif?"

The orange one looked away with his mind still a mess. Sarge stomped his foot surprising all. "Do you understand?"

"Y- Yes…," Grif replied with a weak nod. Sarge got up with doubts, but for now he was satisfied with the answer for they did not have much time to spend thinking on these matters. Muffins walked in with a towel on his dried out head. "Okay my lovelies, I just finished loading the last of the armor. Now we can all go on a fun trip in which some adventures also happen behind the doors ja."

"Never gonna happen bro," Tucker answered as he got up and volunteered to carry Donut with Doc on their makeshift stretcher that Caboose and Iowa had been tasked with. Lopez walked inside drenched in water as he thanked the UNSC for not skimping out on their manufactured parts. Sister however was not impressed as she nearly lost her head on a temper tantrum, almost scolding him as if she were his mother. He while annoyed by the noise, ignored her ultimately to report the completion of his task. "[I have finished resupplying our vehicles with the supplies we were running short on. I also refueled all the vehicles.]"

"Before anyone tries to be a smartass," Church stopped the predictable Sarge. "He said that he finished resupplying and fueling up our vehicles."

"Great to finally have a translator with us," said Tucker as he lifted Donut up. Doc led the way and stopped just before they hit the water. He asked for Sister to come and maintain a shelter above his body so that his wounds weren't affected. Quickly, they loaded him up and secured him down with a few straps to the floor. Sarge thanked Lopez for his efforts. "But we may have to abandon the Warthogs for now. Donut is our top priority. All of us should be with him."

* * *

Suddenly a beep distracted them all. Mike raised his communicator. "That may not be possible."

He activated the device and gave a soldier's salute. "Sir, is there an update?"

The commander of the planet base they encountered first looked at the map and nodded his head. "Another attack, I need you and your team to chase this lead down."

"But sir," Mike began as he stared back to the others. "One of us has been gravely injured."

"How bad?"

"We are thinking that its paralysis."

The commander's eyes opened wide at the news as he wiped his forehead. "Jesus."

Everyone in the room looked as if wondering what was going through the commander's head at this time when to them there was only one clear route to take. Simmons slowly began his approach with the communicator in his sights. Mike was no ignorant fool. He quickly hid behind the closest person he could find, which was Lopez. Sarge acted fast to restrain Simmons with a firm grip on his shoulder. "Don't do anything you may regret Simmons."

"But sir, if we don't say anything here or do something, then we may not be happy with the results."

"Let him talk it out," Sarge stated motioning for Mike to continue. The ODST nodded with gratitude as he looked back to the commander. "Sir, what are our orders?"

The man looked torn between the revelation that occurred, and their newly reported lead. He closed shut his eyes in absolution and opened with an answer. "Chase the lead."

As if a can of anger was kicked open, Grif snatched the communicator from Mike's hand and screamed. "What the hell?! Didn't you hear that one of us is hurt, we don't have time for this cat and mice chase!"

"Watch your tone soldier!" the commander said in a dangerous manner. "I realize how severe a loss is, but there are greater things to be concerned with. Bring your comrade to the nearest hospital and I will ensure he gets taken care of. But I need the rest of you to be operational in the field. This mission cannot stop. The more you choose to do nothing, the more people die because of that group."

Grif shoved the phone back towards Mike as he walked away in dejection. "This is bullshit."

Tucker and Doc re-entered the scene and were quickly brought up to speed by Church. Before Tucker could move towards the communicator in dislike of the developments, he was held in spot by Church. "Don't, it will only make the situation worse."

Mike looked back and forth from the screen to the group. "Sir, with all due respect, is there no other group you can assign to this mission?"

"No," the commander answered. "You are our best hope. That will be all. There will be no further argument on this matter."

"Yes sir," and the screen went black. As Mike stored the communicator away, several broke out into a fit of rage as they kicked the nearest object of least consequence to them. Sarge radioed Muffins. "Change of plans, you will have to go on your own. The rest of us need to carry on with this mission."

"Are you sure?"

"Orders are orders," Sarge spoke in a determined voice. "We will just have to finish this fast so we can get back to Donut's side I suppose."

"Yeah, let's go kick their asses!" Caboose exclaimed and Iowa happily agreed. "And then we can also play all the games we want to with Donut!"

They all had a plan, and they all agreed upon it even if it wasn't to their liking. The Pelican took off and the rest looked at the bird disappear into the sky. _Be safe you two_ , they all thought as they boarded their vehicles. Simmons looked down towards Grif and spoke in almost a whisper. "Listen Grif, about before, I'm sorry."

Grif nodded his head in appreciation. "I'm sorry to, for what I did. I am going to be sorry for a long while to come, maybe for the rest of my life."

"We will work through it together," said Simmons as Sarge agreed. "That's right, as a family."

They hit the accelerator pedal and quickly found themselves once again on the road towards their war foes.

* * *

 **A/N: Well a bummer about Donut. But really now, who here thought I was going to let him get off easy by killing him right away, or having him walk this off? Like I said before, this is war.**

 **There was some character development sprinkled in there as well, I hope you enjoyed that. But this may just help set the tone for the events to follow. What were your thoughts after reading this chapter on the story so far and the characters?**

 **Feedback is appreciated. Thank you for your continued readership and support!**

 **~ Monty**


	15. Trapped

**Chapter 14: Trapped**

Simmons slowly cracked open his eyes. He felt a weightlessness to his body as it was surrounded by a pure darkness. He looked around him to find the unwelcoming chill of loneliness. _Where am I?_ He heard a patter, as if the sound of bare feet hit against a smooth metal floor. "Hey Tech Buddy!"

His eyes widened in surprise, an emotion that then turned to shock as he looked down to see the silver floor beneath his feet. _This nightmare again?_ In front of him, at waist level stood the young Edwards. Elsie with the aid of her cane slowly moved in their direction. Her warm smile sent shivers down his spine. _Why are you two here? You are dead_. She reached down to touch his shoulder and nodded her head in reassurance. Edwards reached deep into his pocket, and with a shining smile amidst this darkness he held out an object in his hands. "Here, I have something for you, to remember me by!"

Simmons bent down to Edwards' level and noticed the familiar communication device. He took hold of the phone and flipped the screen open. The light on the screen suddenly came to life, and a call rang through the speakers. _It works?_ Hesitant, he reached over with his thumb to answer the alert. "Hello?"

A loud noise echoed without rest, static ringed in his ears, the noise was most disturbing as it pierced the deepest recesses of his mind. But as quickly as the noise started, it stopped with a heavy breathing audible from the phone. "Tech Buddy…"

"Edwards?"

"You…let…me…die!"

The young boy gripped his friend by the arms and suddenly began to heat up. Steam escaped his skin until it began to slowly peel off and his innards lit up on fire. Simmons struggled against the grip as he fell to the ground, failing to fight back against Edwards' force. The fire eventually spread throughout Edwards' arms and drained the maroon soldier of all of his shields. The fire began to spread on his armor, and the intense heat was felt by his skin. He grunted in slight discomfort as his body began to sweat heavily. But then as he hoped for the end of this nightmare, Donut would not allow it. The pink one stood opposite to the two and slowly walked closer. "You let me get hurt."

"What, no, I wanted to save you!"

Donut rested his hands around Simmons' neck and gently applied pressure from both sides. Simmons struggled against his two assailants now slowly losing strength. "Agh…please, I wanted…to save you two."

"But you stood there as I died," spoke Edwards further increasing the intensity of the fire. Donut chocked even harder. "You didn't organize well enough, nor did you plan that caused me to lose my ability to move. You are an ignorant leader, and I paid the price for it!"

"No..," he reached out towards Donut's neck, but quickly his arm numbed. Donut leaned in close towards Simmons' ears and applied more pressure. "How many more of us will you drag down?"

* * *

Simmons suddenly cracked open his eyes at the sudden bump. He looked forward to find Grif staring back. "Sorry, I couldn't go around that crater."

The maroon leader nodded his head. "It's fine, probably better that I woke up."

"Nightmare?" asked the red leader to Simmons' surprise. "Yes, it was."

"Want to talk about it?"

"No thanks Sarge," he stood up with the aid of the machine turret placement. He leaned his two shoulders forward and got in position. Grif looked up in the air and pondered aloud. "I hope Donut is doing alright."

"He will be fine," Tucker mentioned as they drove up to the red's car. Grif looked at the aqua one with a questionable look. "How would you know that?"

"Muffins maybe a creep, okay he is a total creep," Tucker argued. "But he is reliable. Without him, we wouldn't be alive right now. He was the one to pick you guys up from space back on that space station."

"Yeah, except he took us down to that shitty ass planet," replied Grif as he swerved around a rock. Tucker shook his head. "You are missing the point. Sure what came wasn't great, but it was the only choice he had at that time, and he did pretty well all things considered I would say. Plus he did help us get to Earth as well that one time."

"He has got a point," Sarge looked at the two as he stretched his arm. "He is a crazy cracker, but a reliable one at the end of the day. Even when the UNSC would turn its back on us, or turn against us, I'm sure he will be there standing alongside us."

"Plus, things would be boring without him here," Church chimed in recalling all the times his sexual comments caused many to become uncomfortable, and the various stories Muffins shared with them. Grif stared at the endless destruction in front of them. Wherever they saw conflict, they steered clear for fighting was the last thing on their minds. Being forced to move forward in their mission was a simple, yet cruel reminder that they were drafted here. No matter what they wanted, there was no choice, it was those pulling the strings who acted as the brains, while they were simply the muscles.

"[Look at that explosion, let's all drive straight into it guys, then we don't need to worry about our mission.]"

The rest instinctively looked towards Church who was slouched over in his seat. Simmons raised an eyebrow. "Is he in sleep mode or something?"

"Church," Tucker shook him rather violently. "You are being uncharacteristically quiet here. What gives dude?"

* * *

Little did they know, all the fragments stood gathered together in their own digital reality. Epsilon looked at the others, but Delta specifically. "You tend to keep up with this sort of thing. Did Iota say anything about wanting to be retrieved?"

Delta shook his head. "I believe he wishes to stay with his host."

"Hmm," Epsilon rested his hands on his waist and looked down in deep thought. "That's not good."

"But it is his choice," Sigma retorted. Gamma looked at the crowd and walked into the center. "What will we want to do should the same thing happen to our hosts?"

Theta as he rolled around on his skateboard, and jumped in the air on a digital ramp had his mind already made up. "I'm going to stick with Sarge to the end. He is nice, and I like being with him."

"I will stay in that human's head," said Omega as he recalled the balance him and his host tended to achieve with one another. Gamma looked at the rest and they all agreed in a nod. Epsilon crossed his arms and spoke. "Well, that's that matter. I only hope that the rest of our hosts remain healthy."

"As do we," said Sigma before disappearing. The others left the digital space with Epsilon the last to go. The light on his visor lit up as his head lifted. Tucker welcomed him back with Church scanning his surroundings. "Sorry, I must have dozed off for a bit there."

* * *

A young Ful sat in the back of what could only be described as a classroom. His classmates were all young and fresh minds to be molded like his. At the front was an elderly Sangheili, who strolled back and forth from one end of his lecture stage to the other. "You were all bred for one higher purpose. We are all brothers and sisters in our crusade to right the wrongs in the universe. God gave us strength, intelligence and most of all the will to act. We are the holy children of God, and it is our duty to rid this universe of whatever scourge presents itself to us."

Ful smoothly rubbed his finger along the way on the metal desk, collecting any dust along the way. He let out a sigh followed by a tired yawn. His sister however sat by his side, enamored by every word spoken by their instructor. It was not much of a surprise to him or any other student there for why she was considered the favorite. Ful stood up upon hearing his name, and he saw the instructor point to the projection on the wall. "Explain to us what you would do in this situation."

Ful studied the scenario. It was a human settlement. Ful and his comrades had just arrived at the settlement. They successfully took it over and rounded up the humans. Now it was up to him as their leader to order the next step. The young one looked away from the words to the picture, it was an actual image taken from one of the missions from the adults. Ful looked around at the expecting gazes. He shifted in one spot, an action his sister knew well. It was an action significant of his desire to escape the spotlight. She stood up beside him and spoke. "I would take the child out of that mother's hand and crush it in front of them. This would act to deprive them of any hope, to show them that we cannot be bargained with, and that their death is inevitable."

"Thank you Shexa," the instructor noted with a courteous tone, but he quickly turned towards Ful. "But I was asking Ful. Your dedication to the cause is however noted. Tell us Ful, what would you do?"

"I would…," he looked back to the picture as his eyes glistened at the picture of the mother. _You have a kind heart_ , echoed his mother's voice in his head. _How can I be kind when I chose to murder?_ He looked at the other humans and a wave of anger flooded him over. But just as quickly as the flood came, it was gone. His mind was at ease, the hatred was subsided for now. He looked at the humans in military uniforms and gripped the edge of his table. The teacher gave a questionable look. Even at this age he was quite the troublesome one since to the teacher he did not seem very receptive of the teachings. Ful gritted his teeth and gave a small growl. "I would kill the soldiers and leave their bodies to rot, but let the others go."

"Wrong!" The teacher stepped up to the young one and pointed out the door. "Stand out in the hallway, we cannot have such weaklings in here who are unable to make clear cut decisions in respect of our ideology and our given right to be God's messengers!"

As it had always ended, he stood out alone and only left to hear the bits and pieces. He looked up at the ceiling while leaning back against a wall and pondered. _Mother, why am I incapable of hurting the civilians of their kind? Is it because I too once knew the feeling of a civilian losing everything or is it because that I'm just weak?_

He heard Shexa excel like always. Praises were thrown around like royal comments her way. Ful already could tell that she would go far in this line of work, but he was worried about his own future. If he failed to show his usefulness to father, then he could be abandoned and left all alone once again. _Compromise where you can, but at other times stand your ground_ , he remembered his mother saying that to him. He closed his eyes to remember the warm scent his mother had about her at all times. It was a comfort of safety, knowing that she would be there to protect him. But now he is only surrounded by the indifference of most around him. _Cruelty, you will be praised for it here. Kindness, you will be scorned for it_. He thought as he walked away, leaving the adult Ful to stare from afar.

The adult Ful turned around to see the scene fade to black, and another open its curtains to him. _I remember this one_. The young Ful stood against a wall, surrounded by three other young Sangheilis, his classmates and victims the same as him. It was a routine he had grown accustomed to. The strong were praised and looked up to, while the weak were picked on. But as his adult self recalled, she always stepped in instantly commanding the respect of his bullies without uttering a single word, and leaving the two siblings alone. Predictably so, she did so as the others bowed their heads to her. With one motion of her hand, the bullies all dispersed in different directions. She turned around in disappointment. _I was one to her just like to others_ , the adult form thought walking closer to the two. _Perhaps, I still am_. She however always found the kindness to smile, and lift his spirits up. As public intimacy was frowned upon, Ful could recall the moments the two would embrace one another into a loving hug, and make promises of absolute loyalty to one another in private. The adult Ful closed his eyes and opened them to the recent events. _Oh how you have changed sister. The fanatic, yet kind sister I once knew no longer exists. Perhaps I should no longer be the kind boy I once was towards you. You mistreat our soldiers, have no regard for our lives and blindly serve a purpose we were brainwashed into, not one by choice_. He once again closed his eyes, but opened them back to the weight of reality.

* * *

"Sir," one of the lower level soldiers bowed before Ful. The second in command was never able to get used to such gestures from their soldiers. _In their eyes, I probably appear strong_. He stood up and asked for the soldier to stand. _But in reality, I am perhaps still that little boy, back in the house with his mother's cold corpse in front of him. I am still struck with the paralyzing fear of death_. He walked to stare out the window and took notice of the troops marching outside in formation, even those that are injured. "Report."

"The maze has been set."

"And the trap to allure them is there?" Ful asked with some disgust in his voice. He looked out to a crane in the middle of said maze and saw a few chains dangling downwards. The soldier confirmed. "They are in place."

"Have you reported this to Shexa as well?"

"No sir."

"Why?"

The soldier suddenly went quiet. Ful looked back with curiosity. The soldier looked around as if paranoid about who could be listening. "Sir, may I speak openly?"

"You may."

"We do not feel comfortable following her leadership anymore. We would much rather follow you."

"As flattering as that is," Ful spoke as he held back the urge to grin. "Do not think to start a mutiny. It will not end well for anyone."

"Yes…sir," with disappointment, the soldier left. Ful turned back to look at the struggling soldiers outside. With a proud stride, he left the room to the open space of the hard dirt ground. "Where is Shexa?"

"In the main command center sir!"

"Tell the injured troops that they are to rest now," Ful ordered while looking at all standing before him. "No more training. We need them in fighting condition."

"Yes sir!" shouted one of the injured soldiers in appreciation, as did the rest. Ful made haste to the main command center as he entered the commander's office. There sat Shexa with her communicator open. He heard the voice of their father, echoing disappointment and anger. As the screen turned black, she slowly turned with a grim expression. "What is it?"

"The trap is set up along with the bait."

"Good, leave," she replied almost immediately and turned back around. However, within seconds she took notice of the reflection in the glass. "Why are you still here?"

"I have given orders for the injured troops to rest," Ful admitted as he received a sharp glare from her. She stood up and took slow heavy steps around the desk. "Under whose authority did you see fit to give such orders?!"

"Under my own," he replied. "I am sure you realize that we will need the numbers. If our troops further break their bodies with training, what use are they?"

"They are to act as a distraction for the enemy then."

"I think you mean sacrifice," Ful shot back with a disgusted glare. "You have overstepped your bounds sister. They follow you with loyalty because they believe in the cause like you-"

"No, not like me," she held him by his shoulder armor and pushed him back towards the door. "If they did, then they would happily lay down their lives for the cause. But instead, all I see is cowardice."

"Then perhaps you need to look through a more logical and a clearer lens sister," he turned and stood in the door frame. "Keep this up and you may find yourself losing the respect and loyalty of those who have decided to follow you on this disastrous mission."

* * *

Lopez looked at an abnormal outline on the horizon. He used his zoom feature built into his helmet to get a clearer picture. It was their destination. "[We are approaching our coordinates soon.]"

"You are right," Church activated the same feature in his head and passed a binocular to Mike. "Check it out, straight ahead."

Every other occupant, save for the drivers in the other cars did the same. Simmons gently shoved the device away as he noted. "Well, that does seem to bear the same aftermath as the other two locations. Smoke rising up into the air as if hell was literally there and gone."

"I'm sure they are still there," said Sarge. Sister squinted her eyes in a mean demeanor. "Well, they are going to be hearing a piece of my mind, and this ass for what happened to Donut."

"Bow-chicka-bow-wow!"

"Not the time Tucker," Grif retorted with Tucker shaking his shoulders. "Oh come on, if not now then when?"

"I, I just hope they have a great big welcome sign for us," Caboose innocently stated. "It would be nice to feel welcomed for a change."

"Oh yeah?" Grif looked at their blue idiot from his peripheral vision. "Maybe you can go and have tea and biscuits with them to."

"No, no tea, I prefer orange juice!"

"Huh, come to think of it," Doc pondered. "I still owe you that orange juice from the promise I made to you in Blood Gulch when Junior needed blood don't I?"

"Why would you remember that at this time?" asked Iowa. Doc simply raised his arms and stated. "Don't know, it was something that just popped up in my head. What a strange thing to remember indeed."

Sarge activated their built-in communicator as he heard the hail on their secure channel. "This is Sarge, go ahead Muffins."

"I have brought the sexy pink to the hospital ja, but I have more to report."

"We are listening," Simmons answered with the hope of better news. But Grif could feel the constant disappointment in the back of his mind. Muffins caught one of the medics in the area by their butt cheek and dragged them over to a video station. The fragments quickly formed video holograms for their hosts.

"This is Medic Cute Cheeks, say hello Cute Cheeks. Now he shall explain to you about Donut, and find a scientific explanation for my unmatchable sexiness!"

"Um, who the hell are you? Why did you drag me here you perverted fiend?!"

"Now, now Cute Cheeks, don't make me spank dat ass hon!"

"Someone save me from this crazy gay man!"

Muffins immediately rested his hands over the medic's mouth. "Shh…relax beautiful, I only wish for you to explain the situation with Donut to my equally sexy friends over here. Then we can get down to my kind of _business_."

The medic fought against the restraints, and when released, he took in a gasp of gratitude. "Okay, your business is never happening, you need a psychologist."

"Is he cute?"

"I'm not going to answer that!" the medic retorted as he stood up. "Secondly, about your friend Donut, unfortunately we have some bad news."

They all felt their hearts stop a moment, even the robotic bodies almost bugged out. Simmons rested a hand against his ear piece to be able to better hear. "What do you mean 'bad'?!"

"We don't have the resources here to operate on your friend."

"But aren't you supposed to be the best hospital in this area?" Grif inquired as he felt the anger build like a thick, gelatinous liquid, slowly traveling up a tube of measurements. The hospital medic seemed uncomfortable at the close proximity Muffins maintained. "Um, we only have life support here. We don't have the doctors specializing in these cases. For that, he will have to go off planet to the UNSC space station."

"Wait a minute," Simmons nearly slammed his fist against the metal of the turret. "That's bull crap, do you know how long of a journey that is?!"

"Yes," Cute Cheeks answered with a lowered gaze. "I'm sorry, I wish there was more we could do for your friend, but we can't do the impossible when we don't have the resources. All we can do is keep him comfortable and alive."

"Uh oh," everyone looked at Mike who was busy studying his communication device. "I had received word before coming here about when the next set of evacuations would happen. It isn't going to happen for another few days at least."

"Few days?!" Tucker slammed his fist against the horn, and he earned the disdained looks of those around him. Church gently placed his hand on Tucker's shoulder and then patted him on the back. "Chill out man."

"Can't we arrange for off planet travel right now?" asked Simmons. "What about you Muffins, you brought us here, so you can get him out!"

"Not without orders I can't," he replied. "I can't go against orders anymore my lawyers tell me. Boring! But if I do, they won't be able to protect me any longer from the charges built up over the years."

"Who gives a shit about that?!" Grif shouted in anger surprising both Simmons and Sarge. "Donut's life is at risk here!"

"He is actually stable for now," the hospital medic intervened. The others breathed a sigh of relief, but Grif and Simmons were still left with a dark cloud of worry over their heads. Muffins thanked the medic by patting him on the head and sending an invisible kiss. Without a second thought, Cute Cheeks hid behind a bed and a few medical apparatus. Simmons looked at the others who gave an equally intense stare, it was his call. "Alright, look Muffins. Make sure he gets to one of the evacuation sites and that he is transported with the others to the space station. Is that clear?"

"Crystal clear maroon sexy nerd man!"

The screens faded away and Simmons looked into thin air. "I feel a mixture of emotions about what he just called me. I feel flattery that someone would compliment me in their way like that, but mostly I feel like I really want to recruit that medic in strangling him together."

* * *

"Look sharp boys and girls," Sarge reloaded his shotgun as he did one last check. "We are approaching the location."

The cars slowly came to a halt at the desolate entrance. Caboose looked a little disappointed. "So, no welcome sign."

"It's okay Caboose," Iowa patted his best friend on the back. "When we get back to Blood Gulch, we can create our own awesome entrance to Blue base!"

"Yeah, and it will have all sorts of goodies in it!"

"Quiet you two," commanded Tucker as they slowly walked inside. The entrance as they found was not big enough for the vehicles to fit through. There were clear signs of manipulation. As they walked past the guard tower, they noticed a large sign with an arrow pointing towards the maze. Simmons began his approach when Sarge suddenly stopped him. "Simmons, you know it's a trap right?"

"Yes, but what other choice do we have?"

"They are in the compound. It also seems that their aircraft is not here today," said one of the Sangheilis as Shexa looked out towards the group. "I know, wake up our baits."

As the BGC slowly approached the entrance to the maze, they noticed the long thin path. Simmons gathered the rest to plan out their tactics quickly. However, it seemed the enemy would not allow it so as the screams of their victims echoed in the air. Sister looked at the painful yet eerie screams with shivers that raised the hair on her skin. "Um, what was that?"

"Trouble," answered Church as he followed Simmons inside. "Shouldn't we finish planning?!"

"No time," replied their leader in training. "Everyone, stick together. No one splits up this time!"

As they ran through the paths, if Shexa didn't like where they were headed, she would activate her troops to bring them back on a favorable path. There were placements of bunker like shaped debris made out of various materials from the military base. From the center of a long thin horizontal window, the BGC could make out a barrel which opened fire. It was firing physical bullets. _They are using our weapons_ , pondered Mike as he pointed to one of the routes near them. Everyone took it to what they could only then make out to be the center. Simmons looked around and studied everyone's condition. "Everyone okay?"

"Heck no, we should like GTFO!" Sister looked about in a panic as she studied the various paths. They all froze in one spot though as a whimper, one of pain could be heard. Simmons gazed in all directions to find no one, until he followed his orange friend's intense gaze upwards. There hanged three people by their waist, with their arms and legs restrained. The chains that hanged them branched out into one direction, which then led down to a crank. Tucker quickly moved towards the handle. Simmons noticed and shouted in protest. "Wait, no!"

As soon as the crank handle turned, the chains loosened and the bodies went flying down. But not before they were met with their unfortunate death on their way down by the way of a thin metal wire. Diced cleanly through their throats, their heads landed in various directions as their bodies piled on one another. Blood spurted out in all directions, and showered some below them. Tucker looked at the scene in shock as he approached one of the heads and fell to his knees. _Fuck, no, no, fucking dammit!_ Church quickly picked up the aqua one to see the Sangheilis pop out from cover with their guns raised. "Get a hold of yourself Tucker. They want to disorient us with this. Come on, we need everyone to be in a right state of mind right now!"

The aliens opened fire, and the BGC all ran towards one singular exit. But this time Shexa felt proud knowing of her masterful preparations. The Sangheilis used various doors by their locations to travel within the walls of the maze, and popped out the other side where they presumed the BGC to be. From hall to hall, the crew ran without a break for air. Sarge drew his shotgun as one appeared from the floor and shot him straight in the mouth. But his shield protected him from the first shot, but he was not so lucky on the second. "That one's for Donut you bastards!"

The whole group came to a halt when they came face to face with one of the turrets. Simmons pushed back on the group to return from whence they came. Their shields protected them for the most part save for a few scratches from tripping and falling over. Much to Tucker's surprise, one came out from the wall in front of him and jumped towards him swinging his sharp axe. Church pushed his friends out of the way, but at the cost of his own body as the weapon embedded deep into the head, frying the major control components. Tucker stood up with his sword drawn. "Church? Church, talk to me!"

 _Don't worry, I'm still here_ , said the fragment in his head. Tucker made quick work of the extremist and motioned for others to follow. "Don't scare me like that dude."

As they ran through the various locations, Lopez came across a Brute Shot. Knowing of its destructive power, he took it with great excitement. "[Hopefully I get to fuck some shit up.]"

"One down," Shexa counted off her finger. "I expect the rest to meet the same fate."

The BGC took note of a nearby exit from this left and right of hell, but in their way stood one lone Sangheili. Tucker stepped forward with his sword drawn. "You must be either really brave or dumb. I think I will go with dumb."

The two engaged in a quick skirmish as the young Sangheili skillfully dodged the sword. Tucker on the other hand did not show the same level of prowess in hand to hand combat. As the Sangheili reached down towards Tucker's waist, he threw a punch that seemingly missed and his fist relaxed into an open hand posture just grazing his target. The aqua one was no longer going to waste his time on this. He took the Sangheili by the neck and stabbed his sword straight through the young warrior's chest. The BGC without a look back left. They exited the base to find their cars trashed. Sarge pointed to a nearby network of cave like formations. "Let's get to over there. We can plan our next move from there!"

"You all heard Sarge!" shouted Simmons as he led them all to safety. Shexa stood rather disappointed, though she had forced herself to get used to this feeling as she has experienced it a great deal lately. Ful studied a tracker device in his hand and handed it to the main commander. "We managed to plant the tracker."

"Good, time to go and flush the bugs out."

* * *

"Okay Church," Tucker looked to his right at his floating holographic friend. "Time to explain why you decided to trash your body."

The group walked inward into the cave formations, where the light got dimmer and dimmer. Simmons activated his built-in lights in the helmet as the others followed his lead. Church crossed his arms thoughtfully as he spoke. "We can't let the host die."

"Why not?"

"If the host dies, then if we are not retrieved in time, we die as well."

"Recovery mode?" asked Simmons. Church nodded his head in confirmation. "That's why you guys are more important than our dead weight bodies."

Sigma appeared to Tucker's left side. "Please rest assured that we shall never abandon any of you. We need you, and I only hope the same is true the other way around."

Sarge looked at Theta who zoomed around on his skateboard with a smile. "I would say that's true."

Simmons suddenly stopped causing Grif to bump into him. "Hey, what gives, why did you stop?"

Simmons pointed to a crevice in front of them. There was a large gap, too long for them to jump, a conundrum indeed. Simmons turned to the others and pointed to the gap behind him. "Okay, we will have to boost ourselves across. The fragments can help us control our output to make sure we don't fall or that we don't go flying into the ceiling head first."

"What about me?" Sister asked as she stared at the other fragments by their hosts. Iowa stepped up as well with his hand raised alongside Sister. The maroon leader looked around and eyed Lopez. "Can you help them across?"

"[Sure, can I drop the annoying yellow one on the way over and say my hand slipped?]"

"What'd he say?" Grif looked to their now newly appointed translator. Epsilon chuckled to himself. "He said 'sure'."

"That seemed like way too many words for just a 'sure'," noted Doc. Epsilon appeared besides Lopez and whispered. "Feel free to drop them both for giggle's sake."

One by one, they made it over. Even Sister and Iowa survived the journey over. Grif looked back towards the direction they came from. But he was quickly dragged back on track by Tucker. "Keep your head on straight dude."

"Right…"

Outside of the cave formations, Shexa studied the tracking monitoring device and noticed their journey deep into the networks. One of the soldiers approached her with a respectful bow. "What shall we do?"

"Wait for them to reach an exit," she spoke while pointing to the various points on the map. "When they are close, we will be waiting to assault them. This time, I expect an exceptional performance!"

The soldier bowed his head as she turned back to the communicator. She looked behind her and smiled at the army that followed her. _Well then, let us end this play for good you filthy mammals_.

* * *

 **A/N: Another long chapter, there have been quite a few of these lately. I hope you guys don't mind. Also, I know there wasn't much of a fight description there as they were essentially trapped at first. But honestly, I never wanted to focus on that for this scene. You lot will get your fights in the future.**

 **What did you think about the chapter?**

 **Feedback is appreciated.**

 **Thank you for taking the time to read, hopefully I see you in the review section! :)**

 **~ Monty**


	16. Sarged

**A/N: First ever song suggestion for this story to play in the background when reading a particular scene near the end – "You Are a Memory" by Message to Bears.**

 **Play this starting from the second last line break. It was the music that inspired me to write this scene. Try to avoid spoilers for the scene when searching for the second last line break should you choose to immerse yourself in the scene with the music, or play it on a second reading to see the difference in your responses.**

 **Happy reading!**

* * *

 **Chapter 15: Sarged**

Within the rough, jagged formations of the cave network, the BGC stepped every inch with great caution. Simmons opted to lead the group for he trusted himself most in this situation due to his extreme carefulness. Sarge followed closely behind him, ready to aid his student when needed. Each of them walked with their weapons drawn, and fingers on the trigger as if expecting enemy ambush at any moment. Simmons had made it explicitly clear for no one to let their guard rest. Tucker looked at Sigma who helped to partially light the way with his flames. "Still no luck with getting terrain data for this cave network?"

"Dude," Church popped up beside the flaming fragment. "We already told you, we don't get any reception down here. We can't connect to the satellites for this region or the UNSC data servers that would house the required map data."

"Hey, I can hope," Tucker retorted only to be virtually bonked in the head by Church. "Yeah, and you can be repeatedly annoying to."

"Big bro, when are we gonna get outta here?!" Sister moaned in irritation as she caught up to Grif. The orange soldier shook his head in annoyance. "I don't know. Ask Simmons, he is the one leading the way."

Simmons stared back at the siblings and shook his shoulders. "Heck, I don't know where we are headed. I'm just going this way with the hopes we get out eventually."

"Eventually?" asked the yellow one. The orange one sighed in immediate despair. "Yup, we are all going to die in here."

"[Great, then none of you would mind if I start massacring you all right now?]"

Church gave a quick questionable look towards their Spanish companion, but quickly turned his attention back to Grif who hastened his pace. Sarge turned to notice Grif's presence by his side. "Ah, do not surprise me like that otherwise I will send you to the back of the group as a Grif sandwich, made proudly by my shotgun!"

"Sarge, we should just go back and take the enemy down."

"With what army?" Simmons sarcastically questioned. Grif gave a look of disdain towards his best friend as he looked to their experienced leader. "If we can take them down right now, then we are set to go home. We can get Donut help earlier."

"Grif, we won't talk of this," Sarge answered with an absolute tone. Grif could tell that right now was not the time perhaps. He slowed down until he met Sister partway and shook his head in frustration. She gently rubbed his arm and hugged his side. "Calm down bro, I'm sure we will get our chance to take those nasty aliens down."

Simmons came to a sudden halt causing the train of troops behind him crash into one another. Sarge rubbed the top of his helmet as he with a grunt looked to the confused maroon soldier. "What's going on Simmons?"

"Sorry sir," he answered. "But honestly, I'm completely out of ideas at this point."

"Out of ideas?" Grif laughed at the thought. "Since when did you even have one to begin with? All we have been doing is walking randomly with the hopes for an exit."

"Alright, can it you two," Sarge stepped in between them like a sound proof concrete wall. He turned to his student and pointed his one finger up. "Can you feel anything?"

Simmons raised his finger and closed his eyes. "No, not really."

"So we are not close to an exit."

"Oh I get it," Doc gently cupped his fist. "You are trying to feel for a draft of air, right?"

"Yes," answered the red leader. "Use the survival skills we learned over the years Simmons."

"Well, we haven't come across any bodies of water," Simmons thought aloud. "Neither have we heard any drippings of water. Meaning we are not that deep into the ground."

"What makes you say that?" asked the curious mind of Sister. Simmons pointed up with his helmet light and explained. "When we were on the ground travelling to the various mission locations, we never once came across any bodies of water. Meaning we are inland and water maybe a rare luxury, one only obtained by the transportation built by humans or rain. If there is to be any water inland, then most likely it would be underground. If its collected together, then we are most likely to find it within these cave network locations."

"But we still need a way out, none of what you have said pertains to that," chimed Tucker. Mike looked at their surroundings and studied their supplies. "We are also very low on supplies. Our water at this rate will run out in about three hours max."

"And I'm almost out of pudding!" Grif complained as he tapped his foot in impatience. "So tell us, what is your great plan leader?"

"You want to try this whole leadership thing Grif?" asked Simmons as he felt his valve of patience turn off. "If you do, be my guest, otherwise, zip it!"

Sarge once again stepped in as a courteous and genuine apology escaped Simmons' mouth. "I don't know how you do it Sarge, always remaining calm."

"Not always Simmons," the elderly man answered as he remembered when he first began his ambitions to lead. "Even I was impatient at one point. In fact, it's only in the recent years that I started to be more patient. I guess Wash rubbed off on me like that."

"It would help if I could be like that to."

"It will come in time," Sarge affirmed. "Being a patient and a competent leader doesn't come overnight, only with experience."

"That's a great motivational speech and all guys," Iowa looked all around them as the darkness freaked him out. It was not the blackness, but the prospect of something hostile hiding in such darkness. Caboose felt the same. Iowa looked at the two leaders with his hands tightly locked together, a sign of his fear breaking through that once calm mould. "But we still need a way out of here, what do we do?"

"Honestly, I don't know at this point," the maroon leader replied much to the dismay of the rest. "Sarge, I don't know what other survival skill we could possibly use. All I can do is ask one of our fragments for help. Eta, did you ever record our trace in this network?"

His fragment nodded whilst hiding behind his large frame from the rest. Simmons looked to Caboose and asked for Delta to appear. "Good, can you two collaborate and create a map for us to follow our steps back with?"

"Certainly," the green fragment answered as he looked to his brother and requested the necessary data. Tucker stepped in between the crowd with his hand raised. "Hold on, you want us to come back from where we came?"

"Yup."

"That's suicide!" Church spoke nearly choking over his own words in a tidal sense of surprise. "They will be waiting for us, or worse they already have traps setup."

"We will deal with it," Simmons spoke with confidence. "We just have to make sure to strategize ahead of time and follow our plan down to the letter."

"Considering all the plans we have had so far," Mike began as he looked at everyone fairly. "I would say you guys don't really know what you are doing."

"Thanks dude," Tucker sarcastically remarked. Mike shook his shoulders and defended his conclusion. "Hey, I'm just saying the truth based on what I have seen."

"So far," Simmons added. "But now we need to do better."

"Yeah, let's do better so we can kick some more ass and be awesome while doing it!" Caboose exclaimed pumping his arms up in the air. Church looked to their loveable blue idiot and shook his whole body in mild irritation at himself. "Well, I guess I'm sold. We can't really argue with Caboose after all."

"Yes, I'm the almighty Caboose!"

"Okay, that statement I can argue," Tucker answered with a quick follow-up. "What's eight times eight Caboose?"

"Um, thirty-six?"

"Point proven," Tucker wore a huge grin underneath his helmet. The fragments got to work in formulating a map of their surroundings based on their traced steps. Simmons demanded everyone's attention and gave a quick standing order until further notice. "Take a break, when we are ready, we will move out. I will let you all know when that is."

* * *

"Oh, oh, Delta, let's play a game together," Caboose shouted clapping his hands together. "You are invited to Iowa!"

"I am sorry Caboose," Delta studied the running numbers as he broke them down into raw binary data for the others. "But I need to focus on this for now. I will play with you later."

"Okay, is that a promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

* * *

Mike, Doc and Tucker sat in a triangle as they stared at the fragments work in unison. Mike stared at his useless communicator at the moment with slight disappointment, but understood considering their circumstances. He looked back up to the aqua soldier in his golden visor. With some candor he questioned. "You once told me that you guys have experienced loss and that you know of the pain that brings. Yet you guys are still able to crack jokes, why?"

Tucker rested a palm against one side of his head. _This again?_ He pondered as he looked towards the reds. "Because it helps keep us sane I guess."

"Okay, then let me ask you this," Mike pointed to the UNSC branded logo on his communicator. "What do you think of them for forcing you into this situation?"

"They are a bunch of a-holes," Tucker replied instantly. He lowered his gaze to recall the news he had been delivered following Donut's injury. "Had it not been for them, Donut would still be fine. He would be annoying as hell, but he would be healthy, and that is what matters most."

"Family huh?" Mike pondered with a soft smile, but for him, it was thankfully hidden behind the visor. Tucker silently agreed as he turned back to the banter between the two siblings. Mike looked at all with a silent nod. _Family indeed, did you ever feel the same way about your squad mates brother?_ He stood up and stretched his limbs. Mike planted a hook and extended the rope. "I'm going for a walk."

"Don't get lost," advised the aqua soldier. Mike shook the rope in front of them all. "I won't."

"Well, he is an interesting one," Doc quickly felt his personality be overwritten though. "Yes, I shall make him my personal slave so that he can amuse me more once I have taken over the universe!"

Tucker quickly slapped him in the back of his head, and silenced such ambitions. "Bad O'Malley!"

"I'm evil, you fool!"

* * *

Sister gently rubbed the top of her brother's hand, having clearly felt the disturbance in his mind. "Come on big bro, I know what's bugging you."

"Really?" he perked his head up to her level with a raised eyebrow. "And this is coming from the girl who all she could think about was her birthday just until a couple of days ago."

"Well, things got serious, super serious."

"And retarded," Grif added before pointing behind them. "Were it us from a couple of years ago, we would have just stormed their asses and be done with this whole fight. But now we gotta strategize and shit."

"[You are welcomed to go and fight them alone. No, in fact, please do it. I will pay top money to watch you get yourself mangled by them.]"

"Lopez, me no Spanish," Grif stood and nearly bumped visors with their Spanish companion. "You speak English yet?"

"[Fuck you, racist idiot.]"

* * *

Simmons and Sarge sat with an intense stare towards their fragments. It was quickly becoming apparent that they had been feeling the pressure under their gazes. Like pouty little kids demanding privacy, they turned and stomped their foot while at the same time trying to hold back their feverishly strong blush. The two men quickly looked up until they met one another's stare. Simmons took the opportunity they had been granted to finally get some things off his chest. "Sarge, do you remember what you told me about not feeling guilty for Donut?"

"Yup."

"I saw him in a nightmare," Simmons looked up towards the jagged formations on the ceiling as he cleared his throat. "It was a lucid nightmare. Edwards and Elsie were there to."

The red leader tilted his head in question. Simmons quickly realized the situation. "Right, you never met them. They were important people to me. In my nightmare I see all of them just peering deep into my guilt. That is until one begins to hold me down as he lights up on fire, then Donut begins to strangle whatever strength I have left, until my life slowly abandons my body as well."

"Sounds like you need to talk to Doc," Sarge motioned towards their purple medic. Simmons shook his head. "Anything but that, I don't want a crazy medic trying to open my skull to study my brain."

"Simmons," Sarge scooted closer as he leaned forward on his knees with his back arched up. "Listen, what you lack most right now is confidence as a leader. Experience helps build confidence, but so does your inner inhibitions to be a successful leader. The stronger those desires, the more confident you will be, even if you are still a novice. As for your nightmare, if you learn to be confident in real life, don't you think that mindset can affect your dreams as well?"

"But dreams are separate from reality."

"People can learn to control their lucid dreams, and nightmares," Sarge answered with some credit to Doc. "I know you are strong Simmons. In fact, if you asked me to evaluate your performance so far, I would say you are already ready to graduate from being a novice leader to someone capable of independently leading soldiers. If anything, you can lead this group back home."

"No I can't," Simmons looked towards his best friend. "Whenever arguments arose that seemed to get out of hand, it was either you or Tucker that reeled everyone back in. I could only watch helplessly."

"But you tried," the red leader retorted with a kind smile. "That is important in gaining experience. You may not always be successful, but as long as you learn from your experiences, you are successful in your own way then."

The words hit home for Simmons. It was as if a drill created a hole deep into his heart where his feelings resided and created an exploding pressure. "Thanks Sarge, that means a lot."

The red leader rested a palm of reassurance on Simmons' shoulder. "Believe in yourself Simmons, just as I do in you. Remember, we aren't always going to be here, so do the best you can while you are to be able to leave behind good things for people to say and remember you by."

"Yes sir," Simmons looked up at Grif who approached the two. Sarge took him to the side where their conversation was barely audible to him. But as he looked at Sarge, he felt a feeling he had missed, yet was familiar all this time. It was the feeling of having a father. With a wide grin he looked back down to his fragment for a progress report. Moments later, Sarge was back and Simmons saw his best friend walk back in irritation, and disappointment as indicated by his stride.

"Okay, the map data is ready Sarge!" Theta noted. Every other fragment confirmed the same to their host. Simmons praised their work. "Please bring it up on our HUDs."

He studied the route with a keen eye. It was not as deep or arduous of a journey as he had thought it to be initially. "Remember, if you get lost from the rest of the group, follow the map. But Sister and Iowa, I want you guys to keep especially close to Lopez. We are going to have to jump over that crevice again."

* * *

Outside, Shexa sat patiently with her eyes closed, like she was meditating. But news that would light a new passionate fire finally came to her ears like the taste of sweet honey. She studied the tracker and smiled at the cave entrance they waited by. _To think they would return the way they entered from_. She threw the receiver back to the soldier and stood up with a Needler in one hand. "When they are near, I want for the rest to be known and we will mount a surprise attack. No one goes home today until one of us is dead."

"Yes ma'am!" They all yelled in unison as Ful readied his guns. He looked at the weary soldiers who clearly held feelings of malice towards her still. He walked through the various lines of soldiers, checking each one for their battle readiness, reprimanded those who weren't and praised those who showed great proactive attitude. He took his spot by his sister and reloaded his weapon. She gazed at him from the side of her eyes and looked back into the darkness of the cave. "We cannot fail this time."

"If we do?"

"Then father will be most displeased, putting both you and me at risk," she explained recalling his furious tone upon receiving her report. Shexa studied the Needler as she checked for the safety, it was off and ready to fire at her finger's command. Ful took a seat on the ground with his sister questioning him.

"I do not see any point in standing as we wait for them. I may as well meditate until their arrival. Please inform me when they are close Sister."

* * *

With the orderly march of footsteps, the holographic maps projected their near exit from this dark prison. Grif's eyes opened wide as Gamma brought the exact time estimate to his attention. He pushed past Simmons and ran to the beacon of light in the distance. The rest followed with Sarge being the fastest. "Grif, wait!"

"Fuck this, I'm almost out free!"

"We don't know what's out there," Sarge replied as he finally caught the orange one in his tracks. "We need to be careful going out there."

"Well whatever it is, I will just fight them," Grif responded as he pointed to the exit. "We are so close, don't hold me back now. I can do this, I can fight them, even if I do it diving head first."

"You two keep it down," Tucker spoke in an urgent whisper as he stared at the illuminated ground by the light. They were so very close now. Simmons agreed with their aqua friend and pointed to the various points outside of the cave. "They can attack from anywhere here. We need to formulate a plan."

"Screw that, I'm getting outta here. I won't let some dumbass aliens stop me!" Grif retorted with a higher voice. Simmons took his friend and almost punched the light out of him, but instead simply shoved him still finding the strength to restrain his more extreme actions against the others. "What did we just say about being quiet?"

Sarge helped the soldier up with the disapproving shake of his head and motioned towards Simmons. "Listen Grif, listen well to your leader."

The orange one almost shoved his maroon friend away as he stepped up face to face with Sarge. "This isn't about just escaping Sarge, this is an opportunity for me, and I need to take it!"

Simmons forced a tight grip on Grif's shoulder as a reminder, yet it was ignored. Grif continued to talk at the top of his voice, as if swept away in a wave of emotions. They were emotions that evoked passion for change. Sarge took Grif by the shoulders and shook him violently enough for him to choke on his own words, which finally granted the others some speaking room. Sarge looked at the shaken figure Grif carried himself with as he stumbled back until bumping with Simmons. "Grif, you are about to make the same mistake as b-"

"[Father!]"

* * *

Sarge felt a surge in pain. Theta appeared by his side, screaming his name as his balance wavered. Grif and the rest stared in shock, soon turned to horror. From his chest, and left side of the waist stuck out two pink glowing needles. Behind him stood their enemy, and at the forefront, the one who held up the Needler was Shexa with a proud grin. Sarge soon fell as the cross fire began. Tucker, Sister, Iowa, Mike and Caboose reacted to protect the reds as they tended to the fallen body. Simmons rushed to Sarge's side who could feel the light escaping from his eyes. His breaths were erratic and heavy. Doc slowly walked, shocked as the rest and struck with a dumb founded sense of paralysis in his thoughts. Simmons waved him over. With a quick snap back to reality, the medic rushed with his scanner drawn out. He activated the healing unit and scanned the body from head to toe. Life was fading. Sarge looked up to the encroaching darkness from all sides of his vision to the last sight of Simmons. Doc pointed to the helmet, and Simmons yanked it off with force. Sarge's eyes to both Simmons' and Grif's horror were already closed.

Tucker looked back at the enemy fire rushing past their defenses to ensure the safety of his friends. Doc rested the scanner by his side to the helpless look of the orange and maroon soldiers. He lowered his head in silence and shook it in self-disappointment. Yet another friend he could not save. Lopez almost stood shell shocked by the reality served before him. Enemy fire caused rocks to fall atop him only to be deflected by his shields, which caused him to return to the moment and act fast with the Brute shot. He opened fire at the enemy injuring, and even killing many. The ferocity behind his attacks was only intensified by a silent sense of rage displayed by his strength in nearly crushing the handle of the gun. Simmons looked up helplessly at Doc. He turned away at the thought of staring at Simmons' and Grif's desperate forms. Doc twitched as a rock from the ceiling fell near him. He stood up and began retreating further into the cave. Tucker advised the rest to do the same as Lopez covered for them. Sister picked Grif up and dragged him further into the darkness. Lopez managed to hit Shexa straight in the chest only for Ful to panic at the nearby explosion. He looked back and forth and leaned down towards his Sister. Simmons lifted up Sarge by his shoulders and dragged him further away with the light guidance of the others. With all his might, he dragged the body further and further away into the darkness. Lopez studied the empty gun and threw it towards the enemy as the blade pierced one deeply and that soldier's screams echoed throughout the battle. Lopez took three grenades and threw them all in unison. With equal measure, they exploded creating a cave in, with only little light left to enter the cave from that point. Ful stared inside as he felt a boiling rage for what they did to Shexa. He stared at his enemy and bent back down. Silently he made a solemn vow with a kiss on the top of her hand as he gently gripped it for comfort.

From one of the exits, outlined on their maps, created by Church when they neared the previous exit, the crew slowly walked spread apart. In silence, they lit a flare for the Pelican circling above in a large radius like a hawk out on a hunting mission to land. The skies darkened with the occasion of yet another loss. It wasn't long before the skies themselves cried when they could not at the moment. The bird took off and Simmons held the body down with great care. He constantly stared at Theta who lied by Sarge's side, in recovery mode. Simmons held out a helping hand for the fragment, but Theta was already decided on his choice. He shook his head and lied back down. The fragment was content to be in that state and the others respected the decision. The orange one with a constant stare felt his whole body shake at the prospect of yet another death. Doc avoided the rest by taking the co-pilot seat for he did not wish to explicitly state the bad news for them. In his eyes, there were already enough bad things for them to go through, he did not want to add to the list. But as the Pelican flew into the distance towards the hospital housing Donut, they all felt their spirits drop and hearts fill with immeasurable worry. Sarge just got Sarged.

* * *

 **A/N: So a shorter chapter than what I have been putting out lately. But I wanted to try and make it more focused than the last few for reasons evident in the events that took place. I must admit though, writing this chapter was difficult from a creative standpoint. I just could not get my creative juices flowing as well for this one partially due to the fact that I'm writing almost every day now, so I'm a little burned out and that most of this story has been written on the spot with little to no pre-planning. The second point I just made has both its pros and cons. However, I hope that it was an impactful chapter for you.**

 **What did you think of the chapter and the major event that occurs here?**

 **Feedback is appreciated.**

 **As always, I really appreciate your readership and passion towards my stories!**

 **~ Monty**


	17. Not a Life worth Living

**Chapter 16: Not a Life worth Living**

The lifeless reflection of the purple medic stared him in the face through the water stained glass window. The white walls surrounding the window acted as a strong contrast to the weeping and dark skies outside. From the side of his eyes he witnessed the doctors approach the two reds and deliver what was evidently bad news. The men went their own way, Grif ran away, and Simmons slowly trudged through the clean halls towards the overflowing morgue. Doc followed after their new leader as implicitly agreed upon by the others with their only potential opposition being Mike. Simmons stopped at the security doors and scanned the hospital pass he had been granted, but Doc could enter freely as an employee thanks to his UNSC medical licence clearance. The maroon soldier noticed the hurried footsteps approach his pathetic stumble from body to body until they finally reached him. Before the two men, on the other side of a metal bed, there stood Lopez as he stared down without breaking his gaze. Simmons removed his helmet and lowered his head in a solemn silence. By the body rested a set of UNSC issued dog tags in a small tray. Simmons reached down with extreme attention so as not to disturb the body and held them up the chain. He wrapped the dog tags around his hand until the contents faced against his palm. Doc looked at the pained expression on Simmons that begged for a false reality to come to life, one in which _he_ would still be alive. Simmons wiped the top of the dog tags until it was clean of the dust.

"Sarge Driscoll," Simmons read with a nearly broken and dry voice as he gripped the tags close to his chest. The tears slowly welled like a dam just waiting to burst. _I'm sorry sir. You died and nothing can ever change that. God dammit!_ He looked up from the tags to the stripped down body. Simmons looked at the other belongings near him and secured the rest. "Where would they keep his shotgun?"

"In the weapons holding area," replied Doc before O'Malley burst out onto the scene in laughter. "Now then let us go and bring down savage fun time onto our enemies, mwhahaha!"

* * *

"What is her condition like?" asked Ful as he noticed the various medical apparatuses on her body. The doctor walked and pointed to the various spots on her skin. "There are major injury points here. Internal bleeding did occur, but we have already stopped that. However, there are burns that will take time to recover even with our equipment. Her rib cage is also broken and some of her organs had ruptured. Barring the organs, we can fix the rib cage. Thankfully however, the organs destroyed were the ones we have doubles of in our bodies. I recommend that she be kept under observation."

"But without those organs, what will happen to her?"

The doctor looked at the patient and gave his best attempt at a smile. "Her quality of life will decrease as the amount of freedom her body allowed for before simply will not be there. There will be restrictions on what she can eat, how much she can drink and if her other organs start failing from any residual damage that surfaces later, life support will become necessary."

Ful gently leaned against the grey walls of the human base now turned into their own personal haven, one that was meant to free them from the physical pains inflicted. Ful rubbed his mouth clean whilst staring outside at their various believers moving supplies from building to building. "We have a mission, is there no way to make her mobile?"

"Not anytime soon."

"Nonsense," and the men looked over in surprise to see her eyes peeled open. She stared at her brother with a concrete stare and assured him. "You are not leaving without me Ful, we have a mission to complete. We will complete it. I will not let you go there alone."

Ful looked at her in surprise, but slowly the surprise turned to relief. _So there are still little hints of the old you in there somewhere_. He turned to the good doctor who had already begun making preparations to try and make her mobile. "I will be assigning some medication for the burns. I can only allow you to leave once the rib cage has been repaired, that should take approximately two hours. Please take care out there."

"Thank you doctor," said Ful with a gentle yet respectful handshake. With a gentle nudge to his armor, she gathered his utmost attention and patted the seat to her bedside. Making as little noise as possible, he sat down and watched her face slowly turn to his. "What is the situation with our troops?"

Ful sat upright, a little disappointed. "Even now, all you can think about is the mission?"

"The mission is all that matters."

"Do you really believe that?"

She went silent. As he inched closer, almost to the point where their noses could touch she averted her face. Ful held up her hand in his and locked their fingers together. "Your actions tell a different story sister."

Shexa looked back with a most stern gaze, but he knew the meaning behind such an action. When they were children, everytime he did something she believed in to be true, her reaction would be to mask it. This was one of those moments much to his amusement and happiness. "Sister, please do not let this belief system of ours rule your life completely. Be yourself a lot more, trust me, the troops will appreciate you a whole lot more that way as well."

She tilted her head in question at the mention of their troops. Ful raised his left hand and showed a ring signifying power on one of his fingers. Shexa nearly raised herself with unwarranted force much to the displeasure of her rib cage. However, Ful held her down knowing full well of this reaction. Her eyes opened even wider as she brought his hand close. "W- Where did you get this ring?!"

She looked down to study her hand and much to her relief, hers was still there. Ful looked out the window where he saw the sickness amidst his kind spread much to his grief. "I spoke with father after some concerns raised by our troops. He granted me the same powers as you to ensure that those concerns may perhaps be put to rest for good."

"Concerns such as?"

"I am not at liberty to discuss that," replied the newly promoted squad leader. "But as of now, we share an equal responsibility in leading this squad. I hope we are able to work well together."

Ful stared at his sister pondering why she would take so long to reply. Finally, after a good five minutes spent in silence, she answered. "I will retain the power over this squad, no matter what father has chosen. I cannot let you lead for we both know what will happen."

"This attitude is exactly why this happened Sister," Ful explained as he stood up and took out the receiver. "Soon, a squad of soldiers and I will be leaving to handle our problem. Please, stay here and let me take care of it. There has been enough ill will created from the soldiers as it is."

"What ill will?"

"There were talks of creating a coup against you at one point," Ful revealed much to her shock. But she quickly recovered with a shake of her head. "Then I would have simply crushed the opposition."

"Always with the forceful methods," Ful smirked as he located them on the world map on the receiver screen. The transmitter signal was still so very strong. _They are close_. He shoved the device away in a pocket and walked towards the door. "Rest, you will need it. Use this time to think about why your soldiers may have thought about creating a coup against you and then try to improve. Even God would know that no being is perfect, and that everyone can improve."

* * *

Tucker sat in one corner of a room as he observed the various probes attached to Donut's body, all for regulating various aspects of his health. One measured his heart rate, the other was to do blood transfusions to make up for the blood he previously lost and the most evident one of all were the ones extending from his crotch area. Two machines were hooked to absorb his waste. Tucker watched one of the nurses enter and take various readings from the machines. She quickly made her scribbles on the recorder tablet and left to move on to the next patient. _She wasn't bad looking_ , he thought as Church popped up by his side. "Yeah, I would say a solid eight."

"Now you're learning from the pro Church," Tucker gave a thumb up much to the chuckle of the fragment. Tucker raised an eyebrow in question as Epsilon crossed his arms. "If you mean the master of blue balls, sure, I guess I'm _learning_ from him."

"You really know how to grate a man's mood Church," Tucker sighed as he gazed towards the awakening pink soldier. With cautionary steps, Tucker approached their friend so as to avoid startling him. "Hey Donut, hanging in there?"

Donut looked from the bottom of his eyes as Tucker stood by his foot side. With the best smile he could manage, he nodded his head. "But being confined to this bed all day long sucks."

"Yeah," Tucker slowly approached near Donut's head along the bed outline. "I would hate it to. But at least you get to see some sexy nurses all day long. I mean there is that silver lining."

The two shared a smile together as Donut nodded his head in agreement. Tucker patted Donut gently on the shoulder and said. "It's nice to see that you are doing good Donut."

"I don't know about good," he promptly answered. "But I'm still alive, and sometimes I question even that."

"Wow, wow, wow," Church popped up in front of the pink soldier. "Are you sure you are our Donut? Because I know for a fact that ours would never say anything like that."

"Yours was never paralyzed before was he?"

Church quietly moved to Tucker's side as he found his tongue held in place by those confounding words. A knock on the door quickly broke up the rather awkward atmosphere as the three noticed a purple medic. Donut's face almost immediately lit up. "Hey Doc, I would get up but…"

"Don't," the medic answered as he dragged a seat over. "Patients should be resting, not trying to show off."

"Now then Donut, tell me all of your suffering," O'Malley suddenly took the driving wheel. "So that I may inflict it in equal measures on _their_ hard skinned asses, mwhahahha!"

"Wait, how would you even know that they are hard skinned?" asked Tucker. Church looked up and asked a more immediate question. "And how would you know that about the particular spot that you mentioned?"

"I'm a medic you fools. To defeat the enemy, I must first know how to exploit their biology to cause a painful and deadly death through biological agents."

"That sounds more like a very deranged executioner," Tucker responded with quiet steps back towards the door. But within the sparkly clean walls of the room, Tucker's reflection gave him up and O'Malley grinned at his victory. "Perhaps you would like to volunteer for human trials of the newest version of the deadly agent?"

"And I be out!" with those words, in a matter of seconds Tucker had skedaddled. The room fell silent again. Doc looked at the two tubes exiting Donut's general crotch area and the pink one looked away in shame. Doc did his best to reassure his friend. "Donut, your life is worth more than the shame or embarrassment you may feel right now."

"But having to rely on all these machines to clean my waste, not being able to eat my own food by my own hands, or even wash myself, is this really worth it? I can't even cook my own food now, and my vegetable garden alongside all the other things I had planned to do with you guys…what is there left now aside from me being a cripple in a bed?"

"We are here for you," Doc replied as he leaned forward on the bed. He held out a pinkie finger and intertwined it with Donut's. "See that? That's a promise that we will never abandon you and do our best to keep you comfortable."

"Keep me comfortable?"

Doc nodded. Donut then felt a pathetic sense of anger at what he had become. "Then please, can you end my life?"

"I can't do that as a medic," Doc answered at the shocking prospect, but O'Malley burst through his voice unwilling to pass up the opportunity. "But I can!"

Doc took a moment to once again control the steering wheel as he looked at his best friend. "Ignore him. Look, there is hope Donut. There are medical professionals out there who can fix your spine. You just have to be patient and be strong, please. When the next evacuation happens from the planet, you will be in there and be most likely taken care of by the UNSC's highly trained surgeons."

"What if the procedure fails?"

Doc looked away in a whisper. "You already know the answer, don't you?"

"Then it's better to ask you for this right?"

"I can't," Doc looked back to his friend with an apologetic gaze. "I'm sorry."

"Doc, how do you guys expect for people like us to live like this?" Donut's heart rate spiked as seen by the sharp rise in the heart rate monitor. Doc closed shut his eyes, as if trying to censor the questions and the world that posed them to him. "Donut, what happened, where did all that enthusiasm go?"

"I left it behind on Muffins' plane when I really realized my situation."

"We need you Donut," Doc begged as he held his two hands together as if praying. "Please, be strong at least for us. We can't lose anymore family to this war."

"Anymore, what do you mean?" asked the pink one, now highly suspicious and demanding for an answer. Doc almost stood up to leave at the onslaught of questions. He felt the panic stare him deep into his eyes as he could tell his legs switched to retreat mode. "Don't run away Doc, please!"

That one last cry from his best friend left the medic standing still, lost in a limbo. He looked to Donut who gave a look of a lost child, abandoned in the rain and only looking for a way to rationalize the situation. Doc slowly approached his chair once more, but scooted a little further. An invisible wall erected between the two, a zone of comfort for the medic, but worry for the patient. "Please Doc, answer, what happened?"

"It will hurt to hear the news," Doc claimed as he sat up straight with a careful look at his friend. Donut closed shut his eyes and breathed deep. "I'm already crippled, and it feels like I have hit the bottom of the deepest hole on this planet, what more can hurt me now? Just, tell me the news."

Doc rubbed his hands together and nodded in understanding. He studied the heart rate monitor, and could tell even with the façade kept up by Donut, his body honestly spoke of the nervousness that coursed through his heart. "Donut, its Sarge. He's…he's dead, killed in action."

Doc noticed the instant spike in heart rate, and could tell Donut's breathing got harder as he was trying to process the news. Doc slowly leaned closer and rested his hands on both shoulders. "Breathe Donut, take in calm breaths."

He eyed the heart rate monitor, it wasn't settling any. "Donut, you need to calm down. This type of stress is not good for you right now, and that's why I didn't want to have to tell you."

"How do you expect me-," he took in another deep breath as if he was suffering an asthma attack. "-to react?"

"Sorry," the purple medic sat back down once he noticed the heart rate stabilize. "I don't know. But please, fight the negative thoughts to stay alive. We can't lose you Donut, all of us need you."

* * *

Outside the room, through a see through window, the orange soldier stood and observed the two friends interact. Sister stood by his side as she gently held his arm to act as his support. To her, this was the weakest she had ever seen her brother be in front of others. No matter the circumstance, she could recall him putting on the tough guy act everytime, but not this time. She leaned in close to turn his face towards hers. "Come on big bro, let's go to the cafeteria, I'm sure they have something there that will help cheer you up. They may even have pudding!"

He turned back. Like a hollow and fragile statue she cracked at the sudden rejection. _He never rejected pudding before, this is really bad_. She held him tightly by his hand and with all her might she began to walk away. Her cheeks puffed at the sudden usage of her muscles to move her steel pillar of a brother. But before she could even move him one centimeter, her arms grew numb, grip loosened and fell face first against the shiny floor only to hit her nose against the inside of her helmet. "Owie, come on, work with me here bro."

"How am I going to face the others now?"

"Face the others?" Sister stood a little surprised at the sudden question from the once stone silent warrior. Grif took a slow turn towards her, his weak posture, and shaky legs begged for rescue. He looked into the visor of his sister and leaned against her shoulder. "Just like Donut, if I hadn't been having that fucking argument with Sarge, if I had listened, then he would be alive! It's my god damn fault!"

"Shh," Sister gently stroked the back of his helmet, as if reaching through his armor to touch his vulnerable self and envelope him in her caring warmth. He felt his grip only tighten on her. Sister almost squealed in surprise as her brother brought her in closer. But she let her role model have his moment. "You know big bro, I always wondered why mom wasn't around so much when we were young. I mean, I know she was always working and what not, but like it would have been nice if she spent more time with us."

The orange one silently listened as she continued in a soft, gentle voice. "But as we grew up, I didn't care about that. I knew mom loved us and that she worked so hard for our sake, even if we were all a family of idiots. Heh, we still probably are. But with her absence, we came to rely on one another to live our lives when we were young. If any of us was in trouble, we would be there to back each other up. No matter what the trouble, if it was a bully, a rowdy adult, or a shady guy making passes at me, you would protect me. I would do my best to protect you to. Still, when we could be together like that as children, I was having fun, and I was happy."

He felt his heart rate increase at her confession. She gently moved her hand from his head to his back. "But we somehow became distant when we grew up and you joined the army. I'm glad I followed you all the way here. While we are not kids anymore, it still does feel kind of like we are back like how we used to be. Mom was always happy to see us stand up for one another, and she always gushed over us when we would cook together, or do the cleaning of the house, especially on Mother's day to surprise her with. I liked being together with you, and I still do. I love seeing you happy, I want for all of us to be happy."

"But if your big brother keeps on fucking up so badly, how can we be happy?" he asked. She shook her head and said. "We all make mistakes. And I know now that some mistakes will stick with us for life. Like for example, all those morphine raids I made before against the army supplies, while they were fun, they are on my record for good. But I will live with that. I know that my example and what happened with you isn't the same. What I'm trying to say is that sometimes we have to accept our mistakes and find the strength to move on."

"Are you really my sister?" Grif inquired as he stared up at her. "Because that does not sound like her."

"We all have our grown up moments," she mused as he nodded his head. "Yup, now you are my sister."

He slowly loosened his grip on her and spoke. "What about the anger self-blame, and the guilt, do you ever experience it?"

"Use it against the enemy," the two siblings looked at the new voice. Grif's eyes grew wide in surprise as he took a quick peek inside of Donut's room. Sister looked from the room and asked. "How long have you been there?"

"Since your brother here started saying it was his fault," spoke Doc as he walked closer to the two. "Grif, if you feel those emotions, use it against the enemy."

"How will that fix my mistake, or my guilt?"

"It won't," Doc answered. "But it can help prevent more misery, don't quote me on that though. I didn't know Sarge as well as you or Simmons, but I know what he would say to you at a time like this."

The two looked in his direction as he cleared his throat, and deepened his voice. "Grif, stop your whining, get off your ass before I come over there and slap you with the upside end of my shotgun. Rather than crying like a little girl, get revenge on the enemy! Once you get it, go eat a Monte Cristo sandwich at a job well done!"

"I guess that sounds kind of like him," answered Sister as the two looked at a baffled Grif. "Yeah, that does sound like something he would say to me."

"As for your feelings on this matter regarding the guilt," Doc looked to the psychiatrist ward and then back to the siblings. "It might suck, but it may be better to talk with someone about it to get some guidance on it, someone certified."

* * *

Tucker walked the white hallways, always impressed by the cleanliness, and the many eye candies spread around. Church looked at one to their right they just passed. _A solid nine_.

Tucker suddenly stopped and asked. "Aren't those the crazy flag loving reds and blues?"

"I'm talking about women, and you are talking about more fanatics?" Church inquired as he materialized in front of Tucker. He turned around and took a closer look. "Yup, those are them, best we fuck off now before they notic-"

"Hey isn't that the legendary sword wielding warrior who recruited us for his quest on Earth before?" asked one of the blues in their high pitched voice. The reds sat on the opposite side of the room and agreed, but with some annoyance in his voice for he wished not to agree with a blue. In the middle of the room was a black line established by a tape. Tucker walked in causing Church to go into a silent tantrum. "What are you guys doing here?"

"We were told that we could find the legendariest flag of all over here."

"You were told this by whom?"

"The nice UNSC man who came to our bases and was willing to convert to our belief system," answered another red. He pointed up to the sky with his palm facing up. "We shall go throughout these lands and show these aliens the errors of their beliefs and convert them to the superior religion of them all, the flag religion!"

"Oh great," Tucker's sarcasm came in full force. "So you want to kill one fanatic faction in favor of giving birth to another. So what's next? The aliens will come invade our bases for the flags thinking they are divine or some shit?"

"No," a blue answered. "We shall instruct them in the ways of proper etiquette in regards to the flag. They shall not invade your base. First they shall make the demands for the flag."

"Of course, because thinking they would just go make one of their own was too much of a stretch," Church snickered as he heard a chuckle from his best friend. Tucker pointed down to the separator. "What's with this line?"

"The nurses did not like our glorious battles for the flag," answered a red as a blue agreed. "Yes, she spoke ill of the flag and then confined us to our beds. Our feet are restrained under the covers. Please call for help so that we can spread our loving beliefs to all!"

"And sue the hospital to, that will help fund our mission!" added one of the reds as the others nodded, clearly impressed by his thinking. Tucker nearly broke out into a body numbing laughter and Church couldn't help but feel his snark build like a volcano until it burst. "Yeah, I don't think that's going to happen. Well, have fun being tied to your beds. I will put in a good word with the nurses to get you guys some strait jackets as well."

* * *

As the duo continued walking, they witnessed Mike staring out into the rain. Tucker carefully approached the ODST and followed his gaze. In the heavy downpour, a visor was met with several drops of clear water drops. He looked up into the sky like a lifeless husk. Tucker asked of the ODST. "How long has he been there?"

"I don't know," Mike pointed out towards the thunderous grey skies. "I tried asking him, but all he did was look my way and went back to looking up. It's almost as if he is waiting for something or someone."

Church materialized near the man in question. "Yo, Simmons, why are you out here?"

The maroon soldier remained quiet as he had long since fallen into a trance. Tucker activated the speaker in his mouthpiece and walked out into the downpour only until his toes were gently hit by the splashing water. "Hey Simmons, Earth to Simmons!"

Slowly, Simmons looked down to the two men. "Oh, it's just you two."

"Yup, it's us," said Tucker motioning to all present here. "But why are you out here?"

The maroon soldier turned back towards the sky as he took in a deep, yet broken breath. Church looked suspiciously in their leader's direction. _Is he crying?_ Tucker stared at the side of the helmet, more precisely, the point at which it meets the neck. He could not tell for sure as he answered his fragment friend. _It could be that he is crying_. Tucker clapped his hands together to get the attention of the grieving man, but he was quickly ignored again. The aqua space warrior stared at the ODST and Church, both of whom raised their shoulders in cluelessness. _That helps a lot, thanks guys. How do I deal with this? Dammit_. Out of ideas, he called upon his flaming fragment. "Sigs, keep in contact with Simmons' fragment will you? If anything happens to Simmons, I want for you to let everyone else know."

"I understand, establishing contact."

Simmons' and Tucker's fragments stood close together and shook hands as a means of creating a private network of communication. Tucker quickly left the cold surroundings of the rain in favor of the warm, bustling hospital halls. As he walked further examining the nurses, he came across a most surprising scene, though not for reasons others may think. In one of the hospital wards, Caboose and Iowa were busy playing a card game, but around them were the hospital occupants who found much amusement in the excitement of what the opponent to the other side may play. This happiness also amplified at seeing the childish, yet good spirited reactions from the two. Tucker smirked underneath the helmet as Church popped up beside him. "Brings the warm fuzzies out, don't it?"

"Yup, I'm surprised the nurses let them do this."

"As am I," remarked Mike following close behind as he studied the cards in Caboose's hands. Tucker walked behind Iowa and looked up to the ODST. "I'm surprised you wanted to tag along with me to this thing."

"I don't really have anything else to do until we figure out our next clue."

"Fair enough," Church answered, but pointed to the pocket that held his communicator. "Don't you need to talk to the ego commander up in space though?"

"I will, all in good time."

* * *

Within the morgue, a UNSC soldier dressed in a Private's uniform entered the area in which Sarge's body was kept. Just as quickly as he entered, he left at the imposing atmosphere created by Sarge's creation. The young man approached the guard and inquired. "Excuse me, I'm here to pick up the body of Sarge Driscoll, but I'm having some difficulties."

"Let me guess, the robot?"

"Yes," the Private replied quickly aware of the situation. "Is there any way you guys know of to try and get it to leave?"

"Seeing as how it speaks Spanish, and is built like a tank, no clue," the guard looked inside the morgue and felt his eyes soften. "But I can't really blame it. The deceased was the one who built it, I guess this is like a missing your master sort of thing."

"How long has it been there?"

"Ever since the body was brought here, that was like three hours ago."

"It has been standing there for all that time?!"

"It's a robot, it doesn't need to rest," replied the guard a little surprised at the exaggeration in the Private's voice. "And I guess it thinks that it is protecting its master even in his death. Who knows, but all I can say is good luck getting that thing to leave on its own."

"Are we allowed to use force?"

"If you have no other options left, I guess you could zap it from one of its weak points," the guard raised a lone finger though. "But be careful not to cause too much havoc in there, we can't have any bodies experiencing damage."

"Yes sir," said the Private with a most enthusiastic tone. Inside, Lopez could over hear all and was ready with tightly formed fists to defend this spot to his last active energy cell.

* * *

"Sir, we are ready," a young Sangheili warrior bowed before their new leader. Ful dismissed the soldier as he turned to his sister. "It seems that you have not recovered enough. This time I will conduct the operation on my own."

"No," Shexa exclaimed as she pushed herself up from the bed and detached the various cords from her skin. With a slight struggle for breath, she stared up in determination. "I am ready. I want to kill them with my own two hands for how they shamed me."

Ful saw no point in arguing for he knew of his sister's persistence. Instead, he offered a shoulder for her to lean on. Together the two walked out to meet the hardened gazes of their soldiers. Shexa pushed off of her brother and stumbled forward. "This time, we not only aim for their life, but what is precious to them, their own kind. Remember this well, follow our beliefs down to the letter and smite those who dare to oppose us. We are the gifts and inheritors as intended by god, now it is time we show those infidels exactly that. No mercy!"

The soldiers all cheered in unison and Ful looked out at the distant rainy clouds. He balled his fist and closed his eyes. _Maybe once this is over mother, I may search for a way out from this life. But for now, I need to fight this battle, and take more lives as necessary_.

* * *

 **A/N: Okay, let me ask again, who thought I would let Donut off easy considering his mental state right now?**

 **Also, what do you think about the development for Simmons and Grif in this chapter and where do you think it can go from here?**

 **Did you like that little bit between Grif and Sister?**

 **How many of you think this will end in the typical RvB fashion in which we get a happy ending for the protagonists?**

 **If you take note of all my other stories, it never really has ended in a happy ending necessarily, it has always been in the more or less grey area since someone of importance has always died in them. Anyways, feedback is much appreciated as it can help improve future works.**

 **Thank you readers for your support as always and I hope you look forward to the next chapter!**

 **Note: The story will see much less updates now. My next two months or so will be very busy, hence less time to write. So you won't see the update you normally saw on the weekends. I will try to update the story whenever I can, but will be much less frequently now. (Ignore if story has been marked as "Completed")**

 **~ Monty**


	18. Revenge Once More

**Chapter 17: Revenge Once More**

Simmons slowly cracked open his eyes. He felt a weightlessness to his body as it was surrounded by a pure darkness. _Here again?_ He heard a patter, as if the sound of bare feet hit against a smooth metal floor.

"Hey Tech Buddy!" spoke Edwards, at Simmons' waist level. Elsie with the aid of her cane slowly moved in their direction. Her warm smile sent shivers down his spine. She reached down to touch his shoulder and nodded her head in reassurance. Edwards reached deep into his pocket, and with a shining smile amidst this darkness he held out an object in his hands. "Here, I have something for you, to remember me by!"

Simmons bent down to Edwards' level and took hold of the phone. He flipped the screen open. The light on the screen suddenly came to life, and a call rang through the speakers. He reached over with his thumb to answer the alert. "Hello?"

A loud noise echoed without rest, static ringed in his ears, the noise was most disturbing as it still managed to pierce the deepest recesses of his mind. But as quickly as the noise started, it stopped with a heavy breathing audible from the phone. "Tech Buddy…"

Simmons remained quiet this time, hoping for something to change, hoping to avoid hearing those words from before. But the past cannot be outrun. "You…let…me…die!"

The young boy gripped his friend by the arms and suddenly began to heat up. Steam escaped his skin until it began to slowly peel off and his innards lit up on fire. Simmons struggled against the grip as he fell to the ground, failing to fight back against Edwards' force. The fire eventually spread throughout Edwards' arms and drained the maroon soldier of all his shields. The fire began to spread on his armor, and the intense heat was felt by his skin. He grunted in slight discomfort as his body began to sweat heavily. But then Donut stood opposite to the two and slowly walked closer. "You let me get hurt."

"No, please, I wanted to save you, all of you!"

Donut rested his hands around Simmons' neck and gently applied pressure from both sides. Simmons struggled against his two assailants now slowly losing strength. "Agh…please, I wanted…to save you."

"But you stood there as I died," spoke Edwards further increasing the intensity of the fire. Donut choked even harder. "You didn't organize well enough, nor did you plan that caused me to lose my ability to move. You are an ignorant leader, and I paid the price for it!"

"No..," he reached out towards Donut's neck, but quickly his arm numbed. Sarge stood in the distance, and simply observed the unfolding events. He shook his head disappointed, and gasped in pain as the sting of the needle returned through his left waist side and the middle of the chest. Blood dripped onto the dark floor in large quantities. The older man fell to his knees and looked down at his bloodied hands. Donut leaned in close towards Simmons' ears and applied more pressure. "You let Sarge die and now you sit here like a pathetic man hoping for pity from others. You are a failure as a leader, and as a soldier. If you can't protect your own family, how can you protect others? You failure! How many more do you gotta drag down with you?!"

Simmons' eyes shot wide open at the sharp ringing piercing his ear drums. He slammed his ears shut and found temporary solace in the dulled noises. _What is going on?_ He stood up and trudged towards the door where he saw panic fester on the other side. Tucker who almost ran by stopped and shook him out of his half-asleep attitude. "We gotta go man, come on!"

"What's going on?" asked the maroon leader in an indifferent voice. The annoyance of the alarm returned to his ears as he awaited Tucker's response. The aqua one pointed up to the nearby mounted monitors to the walls. "Enemy attack, we need to hold them off!"

Simmons ran towards the weapons armory and ran past the guard that tried to stop him. Unwilling to listen or compromise, Simmons forcibly retrieved Sarge's shotgun, a pistol and an assault rifle. He took a knife and strapped it to his other leg. Over the squad wide radio, he hoped for all to be ready. "Everyone, meet outside in five, we will need to fend off whatever enemy maybe attacking."

* * *

In the heavy downpour of water, many stood in silence as they stared at the water proof monitors mounted near the defense walls. Their enemy came from one direction in the air. On the walls surrounding the hospital, the base guards activated the mounted turrets and rocket launchers. The BGC walked out to meet the battle ready soldiers save for Lopez who stayed back with Sarge's body. Among them were many reds and blues present as well, some they recognized from their adventure together in the past. Church hovered beside Simmons as he stared at the weapon mounted on their leader's back. "Hey, shouldn't we just let the base guards handle this or something?"

"Yeah, isn't this like a job for the military?" inquired Sister as they all looked up at the monitor and saw the same symbol from the armor of their mission enemies to be engraved in the drop ship headed for the base. Simmons with no breath wasted looked to his allies and said. "We are the military, now, we will defend this base with our lives!"

"Oh great," moaned Iowa as he wondered how Caboose could be so chirpy about this. Of course as everyone expected, he raised a hand and Simmons didn't even need to hear him out. "Yes Caboose, you can go to the washroom before the fighting starts, make it fast."

"You got it leader Simmons boss man!"

As thunder and lightning struck the ground near the base, Simmons looked to his left in shock. In between the men at the front, there stood a familiar red figure. Sarge looked back and nodded with trust that his team had his back. But Simmons shook his head in denial. _You are dead, you are no longer here_. He looked back to the spot and the previous red leader was now gone. Grif tightened his grip around his weapon and gritted his teeth in nervousness. _Is this meant to be a sign or simply more punishment?_ Sister gently nudged her shoulder at his arm and smiled underneath the helmet. "We got this big bro, just remember to rely on us, you are not alone."

He nodded with great assurance as he turned to face the front towards their base leader. Doc fiddled with his medical bag and scanner settings to ensure maximum efficiency. He looked to his fellow medics who too were ready to serve a purpose in this battle. The medics looked up at a strange thunderous noise that did not belong in this weather. Above their heads flew the Pelicans. In one of them, piloted Muffins who seemed to be having a whale of a time doing his best to try and keep things professional with an eye candy pilot that caught his eyes, but failing miserably at it. He led the offensive assault to intercept the enemy as their first line of defense and offense. Mike took in a big gulp of his throat as he studied the growing numbers on the radars. "We may need more men."

"We will be fine," Tucker spoke as he finished checking his weapon. He checked the sword by his side and was ready with the determination of a Sparta warrior to deliver swift justice. It was the calm before the storm. It was a moment where all was quiet, even the rain to their ears and only stood for the building temptation. Tucker jittered in his spot as he noticed Caboose's return. "Caboose."

"That's me!"

"Finally you are back, what took you so long?" Tucker asked as he patted the blue one on the back. Suddenly, the base alarm went off once more. In the air, the Pelicans engaged the enemy Banshees in a series of dog fights. Muffins looped mid-air as he got a bearing on his chaser and got behind him fast. With a single click, his machine guns laced the enemy aircraft with a one-way ticket to the afterlife. He flew through the explosion, enamored by the falling debris and felt a smile stretch across his face. "Boom shaka laka baby, take that you fine, fine alien asses!"

* * *

Above the skies, as the drop ship opted to avoid combat, Shexa noticed the mid-air explosions and gritted her teeth. Ful leaned in close as she almost fell to her side. "You are not ready sister."

"I will be fine!" she scoffed pushing him back. She marked the spot on the map for their drop-off, but not before having a quick change of heart on the location as they came under fire from the turrets. A new spot near the entrance to the base was marked. Shexa leaned close to the communicator and spoke to the attentive pilot. "You will need to take us down low."

"What about their rocket launchers and turrets ma'am?" he asked as he dodged an oncoming rocket. "This ship will be vulnerable while you are getting out."

"You have your orders," Shexa spoke with a very heavy and threatening tone. "Follow them!"

The second leader quickly moved to cancel that order and replace their drop-off point. She almost pushed him down to the floor in a fit of rage. "What are you doing?!"

"Something sensible," he answered. "Pilot, land us in that area. We will go on foot from there to infiltrate the base."

"That will cost us too much time!" Shexa argued making many others uncomfortable. Ful however stood up not only for the mission's sake but for their lives as well. "But it will cost us fewer lives and lets us surprise the enemy."

"By then our Banshees will be gone!"

"Maybe," Ful looked towards the ongoing air battle and could tell that it was an even one. "Or maybe they may just succeed in starving our enemies of their air resources."

"You are a fool for thinking so!"

"I am an optimist hoping for the best," he retorted as he waved for the soldiers to ready up. As the drop ship neared their landing zone, the soldiers all held their weapons tightly, checked one another's gears and gave a confirmation to their commanders. Ful looked at his frail sister as she held her ribs. "You have not recovered enough. It would have been wiser for you to stay back in that bed as I had asked you to."

"I will not fail our father in this mission!"

"Then stay behind us," he warned as the doors opened. "I have no desire to mourn your death anytime soon."

"Ready up!" one of the leading officers in the base defense shouted as they all aimed their turrets down towards the ground. All around the base, there was hell fire ready to be unleashed. Ful stared through the binoculars and sighed in slight annoyance. He handed the device over to Shexa as she demanded it so with her fingers. He felt an overwhelming sense of nervousness before battle. _This is quite the situation_. He looked to the several soldiers behind them and split several into smaller groups. "Those in smaller groups will infiltrate the base, raise the gates for us to enter and then we shall overtake it."

* * *

The soldiers aimed down their sights and activated the zoom feature on their aim assist cameras. Alas, it was fruitless as the enemy was simply too far away. Ful looked back to the air battle and radioed in for two of his Banshees. To Shexa's surprise, their soldiers held up well against the Pelicans even though the battle seemed lost at the start. As if swooping in like hawks with their talons revealed for the hunt, the Banshees dropped several plasma bombs against the mounted turrets and rocket launchers. Before the humans even had a chance to react, they were nothing but a scorched mark and ashes on the ground against a partially destroyed barrier. The Pelicans quickly chased after and hastened the Banshees retreat. The humans looked over the walls with their guns pointed down. The front line defense spotted no further attack, but not checking the underground sewer passages that led inside the base was their error.

Many looked back inside the building in horror as gun fire burst out. Immediately, all took action and rushed inside to witness the aliens killing the doctors, nurses and patients. In the eyes of the humans, it was a senseless massacre, but to the extremists, it was retribution for the murder of their brothers and sisters in this war. The BGC watched the aliens from afar as they shot their way out and approached their location. Tucker activated his sword as Mike loaded his gun with high calibre rounds. Sister looked to the others with a nervous sweat breaking out on her forehead. She studied her brother who stood strong like a rock with his sword out. Caboose and Iowa too were ready to bring down a world of hurt onto the aliens for the sake of their friends. In the front stood Simmons waiting for the right moment to give the command, and the time was now. They all used their jets as boost and landed down onto their enemies with a thirst for vengeance. Mike opened fire nailing many in the head. He was very impressed by the difference in fire power with these new bullets and felt like he could make a difference in the fight. Tucker swung and stabbed many alongside Grif, the two worked in unison to dismember and destroy the morale of the invaders.

"Get the Pelicans back here!" shouted one of the officers. The officers in the communications room contacted those in various dog fights and prompted them for an immediate support request. Muffins looked through the rear view camera and noticed a Banshee hot on his tail. He increased the thrust and instantly pulled back on the stick, causing the whole aircraft to spin up in the air as the Banshee passed below him. Doing a loop in the air, he managed to outsmart the enemy and get behind them. With a quick response, he shot down his enemy. Muffins aided a few others and led the retreat back to the base.

The remaining doctors and nurses aided in an evacuation effort. The commander on the front line heard of the situation and ordered the rest. "Don't let any of these alien bastards get near those shuttles. We are going to protect those people with our lives marines!"

ODST soldiers retreated to a safe distance from the front to act as guards for the Pelicans, while the other reds and blues fought the aliens alongside the BGC. Amidst the violence and confusion, one managed to access the control panel and open the doors to the base. The humans looked back to the perpetrator with widened eyes of horror and anger. Tucker jumped into the air with the aid of his jets and impaled the alien from the back. "Stab! Take that you alien dick wad!"

In the distance, Tucker noticed the invading army as his blue fragment friend appeared with a most displeased tone. "Oh fuck me, everyone needs to get their ass in motion and stop them from coming into the base!"

* * *

Tucker looked to the rest of the BGC who after fending off their enemies followed after. Outside, they came face to face and both Grif and Simmons felt a sudden unbridled rage. Grif walked forward with his Sister holding him back suddenly. Simmons walked forward and threw his rifle away. The rest looked at him questionably, but understood as he retrieved the shotgun from the back. He stretched his neck and gritted his teeth recalling these familiar feelings. _It's just like that time_. He aimed the barrel towards the aliens. _It's just like how it was back with Edwards and Elsie_. Simmons motioned for the rest to attack just as the aliens made their move. _It feels like an urgent pull dragging me down into a pit of hate_. Simmons himself joined the fray, aiming specifically for Shexa alongside Grif. Ful took notice and acted fast to protect his broken, yet to him, repairable bond. He kicked Grif away and took Simmons' shotgun blast head on. The shields disappeared, but he gained enough traction on the maroon soldier to elbow him down to the ground. The brother looked at the two grovel on the ground as they rubbed their spots of impact in a heavy gruff. The rest of the BGC did their best to come to their fallen comrades' aid but could find no freedom from their own fight.

Simmons stood up all the while glaring at the recovering alien leader. "You killed him…you have to die."

Ful came in from the back and kneed Simmons down to the ground. The maroon one held his backside with near screams of agony. Every time he tried to force his body up, it simply jolted in pain and fell back down. Grif swung his sword towards Ful who held the orange one's puny arm in his hand and swung him down to the ground. Tucker kicked his adversary away and went to aid his struggling friends. He swung at Ful from the back but was easily dodged. _Dammit, he sure does love dancing_. Tucker managed to draw Ful away from Shexa's side as the other two took this opportunity as a sign to finally commit the act.

Both Simmons and Grif teamed up on their prey as they kicked her down and both released their utmost venomous rage. She blocked Grif's swing and head butted him away. She kicked the maroon one away from herself then and lifted the sharp end to her melee weapon. She swung down only to hit the ground. Simmons had managed to roll out of the way just in time. He stood up with heavy breaths and raised the shotgun. He opened fire several shots, and quickly drained her of her shields. He fired off several more shots only for them to be dodged. Grif attacked her from the back but only slightly grazed her. She elbowed the side of Grif's helmet and flung him down to the ground. Simmons opened fire on her waist only to find it barely pierce the skin at first. He called upon his mightiest bit of strength and tackled her down to the ground. He looked around at his comrades being pushed back. Among them one was visibly missing. "Where the heck is Lopez?!"

At the mention of his name, as if an angel descends from the skies, he fell breaking through the speed barrier. His joints rattled from the turbulence as he felt straight down with little to no protection. In both his hands, he held the instruments to avenge. Sounds of a falling meteor vibrated throughout the skies. He hit the ground hard and created a crater all around him. The dust that arose caused confusion amongst all and he moved through the obstructions with his enhanced vision and smashed their heads in. The BGC all looked in awe as they finally saw their comrade escape the cloud of dust and impale one of the aliens with the side of his sword deep into their chest. With a determined look forward towards Shexa, he hovered on ground with the help of his jets for advanced control and zoomed through the battlefield, impaling and surprising many others. "[You killed my father, prepare to die!]"

Using one of the large swords as shields against enemy fire once his shields were drained, he closed the distance between himself and his target. Simmons kicked her down once more and Grif stabbed her through her right arm. Her screams alerted her only protector, and he in a sudden rise of fury kicked Tucker away nearly breaking his ribs and rushed through the battles. Before Grif could deliver another blow, he was held up by neck. "You human soldiers have caused enough trouble for my kind as it is. You must die!"

A sudden spike in pain caused Ful's eyes to squirm in agony. He looked down to notice a piercing blade through his right abdomen. He looked to his back to notice the Spanish robot glaring up with boiling rage. The emotions were hidden, but the robot's hands shaking in a controlled rage spoke the story on his behalf. Prompted to act by their leader's struggle, the aliens all converged on Lopez and stabbed through his chest. The robot looked back and retrieved his pistol. He disarmed them all and went on a berserker rage. With the last of his energy cells that were quickly dwindling thanks to the damage to his energy storage tanks, he hovered an inch above ground and masterfully dodged the enemy. He quickly disarmed many with well placed shots and killed several along his path. Grif fell to the ground while coughing heavily as he stared up towards Simmons. The two men nodded to one another, a silent yet distasteful agreement for Simmons for he saw some blame fall on Grif's shoulders for their recent events. He reloaded the shotgun and pierced through the shields numerous times. Every shot cracked away at her skin a little until the shells penetrated deep enough to be a cause for worry. Her ribs cracked and broke once more and a scream that knew no bounds echoed into the thunderous sky. Lopez shot several around him and finally came to a stop himself. He knelt down to the ground and felt the functions of his body slowly cease. "[Finally, this is it. I will finally get to join you, father]."

Church looked all around for a way out as Tucker took quite the beating. But before he even needed to throw out a suggestion, he noticed the enemy turning their attention towards their leaders. Simmons emptied the gun until he blasted five holes straight through her body. They were so wide and visible that one could see through them to the other side. Out of ammo, he took the next step as his mind slowly became distorted with only Sarge's image in front of him. Slowly, that began to rip apart and his rage found new strength to latch on to. He used the butt end of the shotgun and started to bash Shexa's skull. "You goddamn aliens, you took him away from me, from us!"

Simmons raised the shotgun to see the fear in her eyes. "Good, that is how we feel whenever we face you. Do you understand what it feels now you religious fanatics?!"

He lowered the gun straight onto her mouth causing her teeth to break, and blood to splutter. Simmons raised it once again and further focused on the same spot. "You will pay in blood!"

Ful watched as his sister helplessly took the beatings. She looked to her left, her face all bloodied and deformed from the impact. He looked down to his wound in shock. _How could one soldier wound me so?_ He felt his organs struggling. _That bastard must have struck something vital, gah!_ He began to drag his numbed body over to her side. However, before he could reach her, his soldiers came to his side and picked him up. "No, leave me! I must go to my sister!"

"Ful," she whispered just as another impact hit her and caused her words to deform. She felt her skull fracture. "Live well, and look after our father. Victory to our glorious…race."

With one final hit, her body became motionless and her eyes closed. Ful's eyes widened at the reality and his scream exited without warning. As the other Sangheilis diverted their gazes out of respect, Ful etched every inch of the picture his eyes witnessed deep into his memory. He glared up towards the maroon one and balled his fist, and succeeded against his soldiers' grips were it not for his fading strength. "I swear on my sister's honor that I shall deliver swift justice, do you hear me human?!"

* * *

Simmons stood above the body, and silence took his world whole. Grif walked to the opposite side and watched the bloodied face. He noticed the marks of blood on Simmons' armor and said nothing for in this moment, the two stared victory in the face as they held it in their hands. The humans rejoiced at the enemy retreat, yet Simmons felt hollow, like an empty doll. Grif fared no better as the two men looked to their comrades for support. Tucker and Sister rushed to their sides as they all verified their health. In the air, arose the enemy aircrafts and inside Ful sat with his hands applying pressure to the wound. He breathed heavily as the onboard medic worked fast to stop the bleeding.

Sister looked away from the body that entered her vision. She held her brother tightly almost as if needing support herself now. He looked at her with a pained expression of sympathy. She slowly moved him further away from the scene as she noticed his stare constantly going back to the body. Tucker held Simmons up who stood like a dead husk. He took in a deep breath while looking at their surroundings. "So, you chose revenge huh?"

"She would have killed us if we didn't kill her first," Simmons did his best to justify his actions, yet even he knew that it was a lie he failed to convince himself of. In reality, he enjoyed the act, yet what happened after was not the satisfaction he expected, but instead blankness, and feelings of loss. _It's the same as it was with Edwards' killer. I just went in a god damn loop on myself!_

He looked down to his hands with his body struck still. _What do I do now?_ He asked of himself, recalling his previous dabble in the world of revenge.

"Oh no, what do we do Iowa?" Caboose ran around Lopez's now deactivated body. His friend looked up from the remains to Caboose and shook his head in just as much of a panic if not more so. The rest looked at the duo and slowly trudged towards their fallen comrade. Tucker looked from one person to the next and inquired. "Can't we just take his head? I mean he seemed to do alright without a body before."

"That's a no go chief," Church answered as he appeared beside the metallic body. "Unlike the models from before, this one had its battery pack stored in the body rather than the head. The battery pack is fried thanks to the impalements."

"Couldn't he have backed his data up somewhere?" asked Doc who surprised many at his appearance. Church shook his head and further elaborated. "Unlike us fragments, he has no external connectivity capabilities unless he directly hooks up to something. Lopez never made a backup considering how there are no reasonably efficient servers anywhere around here."

"What about turning him off and on again?!" Caboose looked to the maroon one and inched closer. "Simmons please, you can troubleshoot him right?"

Their leader simply shook his head in equal part sadness and equal part anger. "If the battery pack is fried, there is nothing to troubleshoot. Seeing as how he ran out of juice, all we can do is try and retrieve the local storage as well as the motherboard if they aren't fucked already."

"Yeah, about that-," Church looked at the sudden disappointment from the others. They felt all hope escape their faces and were replaced by hopelessness. Grif stared at the scene with a large dose of survivor's guilt coursing through his veins. He studied the various weapons that impaled him and nearly screamed in horror. _He tried protecting me, and because of me he died. I rushed in hard against our enemy and because of my lack of forward thinking, he was killed_. Grif gently fell to his knees even with his sister's support and leaned downwards until his forehead rested on the rough and hard rocky formations. There were no words to be exchanged, only that his sister realized of the silent suffering that planted deep in her brother's expressions beneath the visor.

"Guys, we need to keep on moving," spoke Doc as he witnessed Muffins bring down his Pelican. "Come on my sexy soldier men, we need to go to the new hospital location."

Simmons watched from inside as Lopez's body became distant. He looked in Tucker's direction and demanded for Church to show himself. "What were his last words?"

The fragment in surprise translated them for his friends' sake. With a solemn smile, Simmons looked back down to the now a dot in his eyes. _First thing I'm going to do when we get to this new base is get fucking drunk_. He leaned back against one of the chairs and looked down to the suffering that their orange comrade suffered. He looked out the window and found himself questioning his place here more and more.

"Hey Doc," Church inquired smoothly flying to the medic's side. "I have a favor to ask."

"Sure what's up?"

"I want you to use your scanner and…"

* * *

In the extremist owned base, Ful lied in bed with multiple apparatuses around him to help with his wound. He held a visual communicator in hand as he saw his father's grieved expression. "I am sorry father."

The father turned to his now only child and felt a gleam of revenge shine like a vicious animal aching to bear its fangs. He pointed a finger towards the camera and with heavy, yet controlled breaths he ordered. "You are to hunt those humans down. Not just for our cause, but for her honor. Do not return to me until you have killed them, for if they do not kill you first or you fail, no one can help save you from my hunt then."

"Yes, sir," he answered as the screen faded. Ful looked up at the ceiling with his hand over his eyes. _I know you loved Shexa more so than me for she showed more promise father, but do I mean nothing to you at all anymore?_ He closed shut his eyes and quickly his body numbed. Next when he opened them, he was met with the sharp glare of the glorious sunshine he encountered every morning as a young child. He looked around with his mouth slowly opening wider. He noticed the familiar structure, the people, their clothing and the noises of the chirping birds. He saw his nest, the place of safety, warmth and love that allowed him to grow until all was taken from him. He was home. _Why am I here?_ He reached for the door upon having heard the noises from inside. I can interact with the door? He slowly opened the door and trudged inside to see his young self, running from the cupboard in the dining area to the table. The young one set out the plates and spoons with enthusiasm as he waited eagerly for his mother. Ful looked towards the kitchen from the boy and noticed a familiar smell. From the scent alone he could tell it was a familiar dish, his favorite as a young lad. It had a thick yet creamy flavor, rich in taste to send his taste buds on a satisfying roller coaster. It was filled with vegetables he loved and some less so. But his favorite bit was the meat as it was marinated with a sharp tasting sauce before putting it into the soup. The taste of the sauce would balance once into the soupy liquid and create for a pleasant escape into his mouth with every chew. Young Ful had always made sure to get the bigger bowls to ensure he got larger servings. Ful smiled at his younger self's antics. _I was under the impression at the time that I managed to fool mother and get more than usual, but she always knew_. He could tell from the gazes he remembered of her as she observed her son eat heartily. Her soft eyes turned up to stare at the adult Ful in the distance. The young one took notice and turned to look back. Ful who stood at the door looked in surprise, but could tell that both the occupants invited him inside. The young one even ran to his side with his bowl of soup. "Mom makes the best soup, try it!"

Taken by the blush she looked away to hide it. The adult Ful smiled at the shy action and agreed with the little one. "Yes, that she did."

"Did?" his younger self inquired, but all three looked in surprise at the entrance behind the adult Ful. It broke into little cubes and slowly disintegrated into nothingness. The once bright day turned to darkness. The warmth of the sun now turned to the chill of space. Within the distance, Ful saw his adoptive father and sister simply observe the scene. The sister stepped forward as if ready to drag him back to their side. "Have you forgotten of our mission, have you forgotten of my death?!"

His mother walked to his side and extended her hand forward. Her open hand felt so alive right down to the most accurate detail as he remembered. Shexa stepped closer, all of them seemed so alive to his mind. His sister waved her arms down with an impactful voice to follow with. "The humans, they do not deserve the comforts they have. They killed me, took me from my family and yet they can go home back to theirs. Why should you be allowed to abandon all of that?! I want you to make them pay, bring glory to our race!"

"Ful, everyone makes mistakes. We can always learn and move on from those phases of our lives," the mother reasoned as she leaned closer with a gentle smile. The adult Ful closed shut his eyes at the two voices echoing from both sides. With some time passed, he had made his choice. He took a step back surprising the mother and his younger self. "No mother, no we cannot. Not when I still have something I wish to obtain at the expense of my enemies."

"Son, please," she begged as he pushed his younger self away from his attempts to drag the older one towards them. The mother bent down to ensure the good health of her younger Ful. The father looked at his adopted son with pride and placed a hand on his arm with a firm, yet accepting grip. "Then go and bring glory to us all and fulfill our divine purpose!"

"I do not do this for such reasons father," he looked at the now confused man. "I do this for my sister and my lust after revenge."

"No, you must not!" the mother pleaded as she ran towards him. But the chill of the darkness would not afford her much time. Soon she found herself retreating back. Ful wiped his arms clean and glared towards the two bearing the warmth. "I must, and I will. But once this is over, perhaps I can find peace and finally retire from such military missions. Perhaps, I can build a new life for myself."

"But once you dive deep into the fangs of revenge, it never lets go," argued his younger self who held a gun while suddenly standing in a crimson puddle, and one of the soldiers who had invaded his village. "Revenge will set me free and allow me to break the chains around me for good."

The father and sister looked quietly as the other two continued to beg for his attention and understanding. The adult Ful turned around with his adoptive family and walked further into the darkness. _That is right, I now am truly alone in this world even with you alive father. I am alone_. His eyes shot awake and noticed his closest subordinate. The soldier sat with worry flowing from his eyes. The leader sat up while holding his head, at present recovering from the headache inflicted as a side effect from one of his antibiotics. The soldier stuttered over his own words while doing his best to present a report. "Sir, I have been keeping an eye o-, on the tracker! But strangely enough, it has stopped in one area."

"Coordinates?"

"It is another human hospital close to the one we had recently attacked."

"Good," Ful felt his eyes widen with bloodshot lust. "We will be going on a hunt soon when I am able bodied."

* * *

 **A/N: So how was that send off? Did you enjoy it and or think it was badass?**

 **For the mecha anime lovers out there…the whole time I imagined Lopez's berserk mode, I thought about Mobile Suit Gundam: Iron Bloodied Orphans and how Gundam Barbatos fights when in berserker mode (limiters are all released) with Mikazuki as the pilot. Imagine that level of savagery.**

 **Also, no retcons in my story series will take place. Meaning if I explicitly say a character is dead, they are dead for good. Otherwise the significance behind their death would just be lost. I hope you all enjoyed it!**

 **Thank you as always for your readership and support!**

 **What did you think about the chapter? Constructive feedback is appreciated!**

 **~ Monty**


	19. Drunk and Crazy

**Chapter 18: Drunk and Crazy**

"So guys," Church stood in the middle of all. "Doc and I finally figured out how they knew of our location."

As if they heard the magic words, their ears perked up like a rabbit's and their eyes turned almost instantly. They all waited for him to continue, and hated how he drew out the suspense. Church pointed towards Tucker who looked confused and did his best to defend himself against the questioning glares. "Calm down guys, I'm not finished yet."

"Yeah, calm the fuck down," Tucker reiterated as he pushed Sister away from his left side. Church walked close to the small, almost miniscule device on his host's armor. "See this neat little piece of tech? It was used by the enemy to track our location. They probably are doing it right now as we speak."

"So, what are we waiting for?" Tucker asked as he moved towards the general area of the device. "Let's destroy this thing already!"

"No."

"No?" Tucker almost tilted his head all the way around. Church summoned the other fragments who studied the device. They all agreed in a silent nod. Church looked to the rest and proposed. "I was thinking of rigging their own device to help us get the upper hand on them."

"What did you have in mind?" asked Doc as O'Malley then appeared. "Did you wish to turn this small device into a couple megaton nuke to create our most memorable fireworks with?"

"Something better," said the powdery blue fragment who asked for Delta to begin. "We will rig it so that our position is faked to them, but we can deduce where the transmitter is sending the information so we can intercept and fulfill our mission."

 _Our mission_ , pondered Simmons as he closed his eyes in weariness. _That's right, our mission was to try and capture the leaders of this extremist squad for information. I let that chance slip by once in my rage. But that mission is the last thing on my mind as yet another chance presents itself to complete what I had started_. Church looked to Gamma. "Once Delta is done processing the algorithm behind the device, can you deceive the enemy with false coordinates? Be sure to keep us moving and resting from time to time to make it seem real."

"Of course brother," answered Grif's fragment as he waited patiently behind Delta. Church looked to the one in flames. "Yo Sigs, can you work on manipulating the enemy by ensuring that the data we send is realistic and that you are able to track the data back to the enemy?"

"Yes," Sigma answered as he stood beside Gamma. "I can do that."

"Good to hear that," Church replied, but was dumbstruck when he met Omega's gaze who waited for his task. "Um…how about you be our back up?"

"In other words, you have nothing for me to do."

"Maybe…I mean you know I could always mean the backup thing…," Church noticed the blank stare his violent brother displayed. "And you are totally not believing me, sorry."

"I'll choke you in your sleep," Omega last spoke before disappearing. Church looked dumbfounded at the spot his brother had occupied and crossed his arms with a slight nod. "Okay then, good talk."

* * *

In the backup hospital the Pelicans retreated to, the BGC finally landed and thanked their stars for some solid ground. For in these times, soldiers felt safer on ground than risk the chance of surprise enemy attacks while in the air and dying a most painful death. With little words exchanged, everyone seemingly went their own way. Mike shook his head at the current state of affairs within the group and held out his communicator. He established a safe line to the commander in space and reported every detailed event his memory could recall. The commander looked at the stream of constant updates on the monitor to his side, and a real-time map display of their controlled territory versus the enemy's. He shook his head in disappointment as he heard his subordinate's plea. "Sir, we need more people down here. Not just for our mission, but for the fight in general."

"The UNSC has dedicated whatever resources it could, but there is expected to be a surge in reinforcements soon."

"How many can we expect?"

"A couple Pelicans, Warthogs and weapon shipments."

"That's it?" Mike looked at the screen in bewilderment. "Sir, we need an army at this point."

"There is also an expectation of a few heavy and one super heavy cruiser to show up," the commander replied. "But don't hold your hopes out for that. We are lucky enough to be getting by with what we have."

"For now sir, for now," Mike added as he looked at his squad mates now completely out of his sight. The commander caught his attention once more, though with a graver tone. "Make sure that the sim troopers don't screw this up for any of us soldier. We need that second leader of their group alive."

"Yes sir," Mike saluted before turning the device off. He looked in the general direction Simmons had left in and crossed his arms with a slight headache. _How is it that these guys managed to survive this long is beyond my comprehension_. Quickly having retreated from the glare of the sun, he caught up to the aqua soldier. "Dude, don't appear like that all of a sudden."

Mike ignored the remark as he continued to walk alongside Tucker. The aqua soldier walked into one of the general rest areas, where he finally found some solace from the busy happening around them recently. Mike sat opposite to Tucker in a row of chairs. "You know that this isn't going to end well for your friends or you right?"

"When does it ever?" Tucker smirked underneath the mouth piece. Mike crossed his arms and tapped one finger on an arm. "Well, I have been doing some research. Based on your past heroics, I would say it ended pretty damn well for you guys."

"But not this time," Tucker replied holding out a UNSC issued communicator. Using its visual capabilities, he brought up a picture of Junior. _I hope you are doing well kiddo. You're probably off impressing the women seeing as how you no doubt got those mad skills from me_. His mind turned away from the memories to the reality that stared him straight into the face. "We can't always be so lucky."

"No, we can't," Mike agreed recalling his two most recent ODST comrades. "I imagine in the next encounter, you guys are looking to end this?"

"Hopefully, yeah," Tucker however lowered his gaze as he saw the crimson colored pomegranate juice being served to one of the patients. "Simmons and Grif no doubt want blood."

"Then we need to stop them," the ODST leaned forward and pointed down to the floor in confidence. "Our orders are to apprehend them while we have the opportunity, not kill."

"Tell that to those two," Tucker scoffed with the wave of his head. "They are the ones with a vendetta. Although I'm not going to lie, I want to see them bleed just as much. Those bastards have already taken away enough from us as it is."

"But-"

"I know," Tucker interrupted while making motions of talking with his right hand. "Mission comes first as the space douche commander dictates. Honestly, the only reason we came to this dirt ball was because Sarge told us we were ordered to. Sarge encouraged us to come here, but we have no more reason to stay here after we deal with our mission."

"So what, you plan on going AWOL?"

"If we need to," Tucker sniffed at his own words with slight doubt. He too wondered himself if he would have the courage to defy all of the UNSC. They already saw what became of Muffins, he was a man who routinely went against the UNSC, and now he is reduced to a mere pilot. If they were to run away on them, no doubt it wouldn't be a simple demotion, but a full on hunt for them marked as traitors. But Tucker, while doubtful was confident as long as they all did it together. "Once we are done here, the next evacuation ship that drops by, I'm hopping on board."

"Heh, that would suit you," Mike joked as he smirked while undoing his helmet. "I was a huge jerk before, wasn't I?"

"The biggest," Tucker motioned with his arms stretched out. "About time you realized it."

Mike felt a nerve pop out in his forehead. _I'm trying to cry my heart out and apologize for my mistakes here man_. His eyebrow twitched in a comical fashion for Tucker who held back a laugh. Mike almost slammed his fist on his thigh while trying to keep composure. "Look, I'm sorry. Fighting alongside you guys, seeing you all laugh, cry, and suffer together has also helped me to realize that you are like me. I was wrong all along. As for that insult against your kid before, sorry, it's good that he steered clear of the fanatics and grew up to be sensible."

"Well you finally realized it," Tucker locked his fingers behind his head with the smug smile of a proud parent. "I kept on telling you, but he will do fine I'm sure."

"You really like stepping on my apology, don't you?"

"After all the shit you put me through, I think I deserve the break," Tucker stretched his neck with a continuously growing smirk until it reached its limit. Mike nodded his head as he lowered it in defeat. "Point taken."

Mike looked away as he felt his nervousness reach its peak. Tucker took note and as if initiating a new recruit, he leaned forward with an inviting smile and stretched out a hand. Mike looked at the hand with question induced eyes. Tucker smiled wider as he motioned for the now new man to take a hold of. "You have been able to put up with us this far, I hope you can do so some more. Welcome to the crew man."

Mike stood a little bewildered by the act. He slowly reached out for the handshake and firmly gripped it. The two shared an understanding smile as Mike found himself thanking the aqua one repeatedly, even to his own surprise. Tucker released the hand and stood up to stretch his legs. "Just remember, now you are a part of our gang, at least until we part ways. So if there is anything that bugs you, just let me know."

"Thank you," Mike answered as he stood beside Tucker. "It's strange how a simple gesture like this one can put a mind at ease. It's almost as if I have found another place and purpose to belong to."

"We already had a purpose."

"Not that one," Mike replied quickly as he held his helmet by his side. "I was always lost to some extent after losing everyone I loved on the battlefield. I guess in some ways, even if this is temporary, there is light at the end of the tunnel perhaps."

Tucker smirked and waved to his new friend as the two departed ways. Tucker looked to his blue fragment friend who inquired of his actions. "It's okay Church. He is in just as deep shit as we are, plus his words were genuine. I trust him. Although I can't see him making a very good wingman for bar nights."

* * *

In a dimly lit room, sat several electrical components in a messy fashion, and there worked the maroon soldier as he soldered a component to one of the wires. He turned his memento around, the phone, and hooked up the charging cable. The light lit up by the charging port. _Good_ , he looked back after detaching the cable and continued his work. He eyed the components to the side and noticed the thinning supplies. _I'm almost out. I will probably run out today_. He picked out a small chip from one of the piles near the edge of the table and measured it up for his purposes.

"How many more are you gonna drag down with you?"

Simmons suddenly froze at the familiar normally sweet, yet now malice filled voice. _Donut?_ He looked back to find nothing. He turned back around only to hear the voice once more. "You let me get hurt, and you let Sarge die."

"Stop it!" Simmons nearly shouted as he looked back to find himself face to face with Donut. "No, you can't be here. You are in one of the hospital rooms."

Donut stood up from the bed across from Simmons and walked with light feet. He studied the components and Simmons' progress thus far with a disapproving shake. "You sit here and tinker, yet we are resigned to our fate that we cannot change. Why is it that you only escaped out from the casualties oh dear leader?"

"You are not him!"

"What, you don't want to recognize your victims now?" Donut spoke in an irritated and furious voice. "Then what about Sarge?!"

Simmons stood in one spot, unable to move a muscle as he saw what could only be described as a red shine from the side of his eyes. He turned to see Sarge, standing by the door frame. The man trudged inside as he used the wall for support. He rested one hand on his abdomen and evidently was applying heavy pressure. "W- What are you doing here Sarge? You're dead."

"So quick to write me off as dead now?" the older man inquired as he sat with a gentle bump to the bed. "Were you looking that forward to getting rid of me?"

"What, no," Simmons stepped forward to see the gaping hole open in Sarge's chest. Blood spluttered out to the discomfort of the maroon soldier. It looked real, it seemingly felt real and his mind kept on telling him it was real, yet at the same time not so. "I could never do that. After my father left when I was a kid, I missed the feeling of having one so much. With you, you treated me sort of like a son, I was happy. You didn't deserve to die like that, no one does."

"And yet you sit here working on that phone," Sarge pointed as blood continued to pour out. Simmons was visibly distraught at the pool forming below Sarge's feet and on his bed. Sarge leaned forward and caused a massive flood to release. He looked to his right and motioned towards the pink soldier. "You kill, you murder, you let your own comrades die, and you think you still deserve to lead the team? You were never a good leader. Our deaths will always be stained on your ledger now. What can you do aside from sit here and mope about the situation, huh?!"

"No, I- I'm sorry," Simmons begged as he watched the two men stand up and get close. Simmons in a fit of panic pushed past the two and ran for the door. He looked back one last time to see nothing, no figures stood, only air. Simmons took in a few deep breaths of relief, but felt the guilt quickly return as he balled down on the floor with silent screams in his mouth aching to vocalize. "God fucking dammit!"

The lights to the recreation area lit up as Simmons stumbled into the area. He studied the whole territory, no one but him was there. He reached behind the bar counter and reached for a bottle of chilled whiskey inside the fridge. He sat by the counter, and with little regard for public decency, he began to chug the bottle down.

* * *

In a well lit area, Grif sat with an intense stare directed towards the small component in his hand. He rotated it around and studied its every detail. It was a piece of armor from Lopez. Sister jogged her way over to her brother and held out two trays of food. "Looks like I managed to get the best meal trays here just as they were about to run out. I'm like so looking forward to this."

She picked up her fork and noticed the diversion in his hand. "What is that?"

"A memento," he replied as he gently stored it away. He picked up his fork and began to poke the ribs. "I was thinking of giving it to Sheila, but then again, I might not."

"Bad reminder?" she asked and he nodded in answer. "Not just for her, but for everyone involved. So let's just keep this between us, okay Sister?"

"You can trust me on this one bro!" she exclaimed. Grif gathered a few peas in his fork and gently positioned it into his mouth. "Right, remember that one time I told you about the story of my first girlfriend, who was it that spread it amongst their friends and then I started getting weird looks as if I was the weirdest one of the family?"

She smiled recalling the times her friends crept away at the mere sight of him. "Good times."

"Not for me," he noted as he cut through one of the ribs and stuffed it down his throat. _Oh thank the lord for food, my only guilty pleasure. Guilt…I just had to remind myself of that now didn't I?_ He put down the utensils, looked to the side and saw a man walking with an IV attached to his hand. Sister noted his gaze and drank some of her chilled orange juice through a straw. She felt a shiver go down her back. _There is something different about drinking chilled juice through a straw on a hot day like this. It feels…great_. She rested her hand on his visor much to his surprise as he jolted back in response. "What's gotten into you?"

"What's gotten into you?" she asked in response. She leaned forward and gently tapped his visor with her finger. "You need to keep your head in the moment mister."

Grif quickly swiped one rib off her tray with a smug look and chewed with pleasure. "How's that for being in the moment?"

"Why you…," Sister felt her cheeks puff up from the annoyance and reached for one of his ribs only to be swiftly denied. Grif held the tray high up in the air with a smirk as Sister tried reaching for it. "You think that just because you are bigger than me, you have the advantage?"

"Damn right I do," Grif motioned with his hand the difference in their height. Sister crossed her arms, puffed up her cheeks even more and sat down with a scoff. "You big meanie."

Grif looked up at the tray with a sympathetic smile. "Okay, okay, my bad. You can have one of mine and we call it even, deal?"

"Deal," and she instantly took one with her bright and vibrant smile returning to her features. Grif looked up at the ceiling after feeling a little relieved, but wondered equally, _did I just get duped by her acting?_ As he pondered that, he could find himself leaning more towards painting her as a devious character upon noticing that mischievous grin on her face. She wiped her lips clean with her tongue and chugged down a soothing cool sensation of her orange juice. "By the way, you still haven't gone to see Donut, have you?"

Grif froze up at her investigative tone. "Um, I might not have."

"Then go see him," she ordered causing him to fiddle with his fingers. He averted his gaze from hers down to his tray. "That might not be a great idea."

"Why not?"

"Well, I wouldn't know what to say to him aside from apologize over and over again."

"That's not what you should say!" she nearly pounced on him from across the table in a sudden burst of energy like a cat. "If you say sorry, then he will just feel worse. You need to be more grown up about this big bro. Just go in there and talk about his favorite things, or maybe something you two have in common."

"We don't have much in common," Grif recalled the times he spent with Donut on their adventures and could not recall much aside from food as a hobby that was common to them. Sister gently bumped her fist on his head and gave a skeptical look. "You spent all these years with him on the same team and you can't think of anything? I don't believe that."

He stared into her eyes and saw the determination behind her actions and voice. He raised his arms in the air in defeat and stood up with his now nearly empty tray. "Okay, I'll go see him. Just stop being scary, I like my little sister when she is not such a hard ass."

"Now who was it that once said I had a brother complex?" Sister questioned with a raised eyebrow. "I don't know if that's applicable now since my brother has a sister complex."

"You just had to make it weird," Grif complained as he picked up her tray to dispose of. "But then again, being normal wouldn't suit you much."

* * *

Caboose sat on a white bench in an indoors garden underneath the comforting sunlight. The garden was coated with flowers and pathways for patients to enjoy and find some peace in. Beside him sat Iowa and a patient they had become acquainted with. The patient looked down at his legs, where he was one foot lighter and to his right where his crutch rested. "It's a blessing that you guys are all still okay, even with the crazy things you have gone through."

"Yeah," Iowa nodded his head with some pity for their new friend. "I guess you are right. What do you think Caboose?"

"I think I want a chocolate cake," the light headed blue replied as his mind did not think of much at this moment. Instead, his stomach did the thinking for him. Iowa shook his head silently apologizing to their new friend. "Caboose, I'm sure we can find something delicious to eat in the cafeteria later."

"Will it be chocolate cake or dinosaur eggs?"

"I don't know about any of those, but they might have some fruits."

"No thank you," Caboose turned away in an action of defiance. "I'm allergic to healthy stuff you see."

"Why do I get the feeling that you are trying to channel Grif?" Iowa scratched his head only for his blue friend to cross his arms and turn back. "Because Grif is not being enough of a Grif."

"Okay, then how would you do Simmons?"

"Oh golly, computer issues everywhere, I gotta turn it off and on again!" Caboose expressed in a hillbilly tone. Iowa sat a little surprised at the imitation. "That sounds nothing like him."

The patient looked at the back and forth banter with a relaxed smile. "You two are quite close, it's good that you two have such a strong friendship."

"Well, duh," Caboose answered. "Like what else could it be? We are going to be BFFs forever!"

"That was a six out of ten rating for Sister's impersonation," Iowa answered as he held up six fingers. Caboose tilted his head in slight annoyance. "Only six out of ten, I thought that was so awesome, like at least an eight."

"Okay, I will give you an eight if you can," Iowa looked around the area and held up five fingers. "Name five things that are red in here."

Caboose frantically looked around the area and pointed to the roses. Iowa nodded his head with one finger held up. Next was the small tree in the center with red leaves growing out of it. Iowa held up two fingers. He next pointed to the nurses walking by, as on the caps of their uniforms, there was a red cross. Iowa looked a little surprised at the discovery. "That's three. You are doing good so far Caboose!"

"Um, um, over there," Caboose pointed towards a red soldier. Iowa nodded his head. "I guess that can count seeing as how it's a soldier this time. Okay Caboose, final one!"

"Aw man, I don't know. I'm out of ideas."

"I guess I get to keep that eight all to myself then."

"Boo!" Caboose echoed with the patient joining in on the fun. "Yeah, boo!"

"It's okay Caboose," Iowa patted him on the back with a thumb up. "I will give you a seven, how's that?"

"Yay!"

"So, is this what you guys do all the time?" asked the patient, while still impressed by their friendship, he found this conversation to be somewhat too simple for his liking. Both Caboose and Iowa looked at one another and nodded with a playful smile. The patient smirked at their childish gestures. "Well then, have you guys thought about whether you belong here or not then? Because I would say no."

"Why say that?" Iowa inquired, genuinely curious to hear the patient's outlook. The man reached for his crutch upon noticing the time. He pulled himself up with great force and gritted his teeth in an effort to subdue the pain in his right thigh. "I said that because you guys are too kind. Kindness can be a negative factor here. If anything, you two deserve to be out and about from this planet spreading your happiness to all."

Caboose and Iowa watched the man slowly hobble away. The blue soldier looked up with the title of his head and hummed. "We should go on a joy spreading road trip, yes, that is my best idea so far!"

Iowa looked from Caboose up to the sky as he leaned back against the back rest of the seat. "I'm sure it will be even more fun with everyone else from the canyon involved."

"Yes, that is how we will do it!"

* * *

On the recreation room bar counter, a husk rested. In a silent slumber, he slept peacefully by a gathering of bottles. As if his world shook in the midst of a furious earth quake, he awoke to the unpleasant headache of his drunkenness.

"What are you doing Simmons?"

His eyes widened at the voice. It was familiar, comforting, a voice he needed to hear most right now and a figure that filled a big part of his life. Slowly, Simmons looked around in the direction of the voice and gave an unbelieving sigh. "You are not here."

"I'm to you."

"That's impossible," the maroon soldier answered turning to reach for a bottle. The red leader walked forward and stopped the bottle from reaching for his mouth. Surprised at the sudden stop, Simmons stared at the grip as he fought to no success. _No, he is dead. He can't be here. Am I doing this to myself or is he really here? Maybe I have gone insane_. He again pulled to no success. Sarge gripped his arm harder making him squeal a little in pain. Simmons released the bottle as Sarge looked at it in disgust. "When I trusted you to lead, I didn't think you would end up in this position."

"Then I guess you didn't know me as well as you thought you did."

"Why are you doing this to yourself?"

Simmons looked at the older man as his vision blurred from the influence. He rubbed his eyes clear and scoffed. "It's the only way I can dull the pain now."

"I think you mean the guilt," Sarge stared at the maroon leader expectedly to concede. Simmons knew his words held weight and that there was truth to them. He looked at the design of the bar counter and nodded in deep contemplation. Sarge sat beside his protégé and rubbed his hands together. "Listen Simmons, none of what happened is your fault."

"I was the leader. I was in charge of your lives."

"But that isn't on you."

"Then who? Grif?!"

The room fell silent until Sarge managed to get his bearings. "I chose for you to lead for a reason Simmons. I believed in your abilities. You are the best one out of us all. Don't succumb to this self-destructive way of life. Otherwise, who will kick the blues' ass when they get out of line?"

"So I'm just supposed to put my big boy pants on and suck this pain up?"

"Simmons, why do we have a family?"

The question stunted the maroon soldier. He looked blankly in Sarge's direction and quickly realized the implication. Slowly he stood up from his seat, with weak legs he felt his whole body quiver and struggle to just move forward. He motioned up towards his mentor and father figure. "Can talking to them ever bring you back?"

"And, do you think revenge would?"

"No, it just makes me feel better," Simmons slowly approached the chair Sarge sat on and leaned against the bar counter. Sarge smirked under the visor and shook his head in disapproval. "But you do so while putting the others in great risk."

The ex-leader pointed to the booze and a partially filled flask. "This new comfort will also put others at risk."

Simmons backed away, almost tripping over his own feet, a little scared at the evidently caring yet strict tone in his voice. "Then what do you expect me to do, and how am I supposed to just get rid of the pain from your death, huh sir?!"

Sarge remained quiet as Simmons finally tripped over his own feet. He cursed silently under his breath as he watched the red ex-leader stand up and walk over. Sarge bent down as he looked his once student straight into the eyes. "That's for you to figure out. We all deal with pain differently Simmons. I don't take pleasure in telling others how to deal with theirs. But what you need to do is once again become the leader I left seeing you grow into."

"I can't, I don't want to," Simmons mumbled as the image of his rifle flashed past his mind. "If this is what I should expect in the future, then I don't want any part of it."

"That's a shame. But if that is what you chose, then so be it," replied Sarge. With a quick blink, the red ex-leader was gone. He was nowhere to be seen. Simmons looked frantically at the emptiness of the room echoing his feelings like he was staring into a mirror. He lied back down and rested an arm over his forehead. Two words silently slipped out before his headache returned with massive force to propel him into a slumber. "Fuck me."

* * *

 **A/N: So, how was that chapter?**

 **What are your feelings on the development for the various characters and the story so far?**

 **Any constructive feedback is appreciated!**

 **Thank you for your readership and continued support.**

 **~ Monty**


	20. Catharsis

**Chapter 19: Catharsis**

Grif stood outside of Donut's room, nervous to the bone as if he was a child once more anxiously standing outside a classroom on his first day of school. He gently knocked on the door and slowly slid it open, minimizing as much noise as possible. But in the room already blanketed in silence, his efforts only proved to disturb it so with what he figured were light footsteps. The pink soldier slowly turned and gave a most indifferent stare. Grif froze up at the lifeless look in his friend's eyes. "Um, hi Donut."

Donut gave a quick acknowledging nod and turned back towards the window. Grif walked over and pointed at the blinds. "Want me to fold those up?"

"No, it's fine."

"Okay," the orange one looked out the room window leading to the hall. On the other side, he knew his sister stood to ensure he didn't cower out. _It might have been easier if she had come in as well_. He dragged a seat over and sat by the pink one's side. Grif looked at the various wires and tubes stuck into his friend's body, and in an effort to hide the pity he looked down to the floor. Although Donut had already learned to cope with such gazes for he came to understand his situation even more so than ever before. "Grif."

"Yeah?"

"When everyone gets back to Blood Gulch, take care of the garden for me, will you?"

"What are you talking about?" Grif felt his heart beat hit hard against his chest. "You are going to be coming back with us all, it will be as if nothing ever happened."

"And what if I don't?" Donut posed stunning Grif. The orange soldier crossed his arms as he slouched back into his chair. He did his best to hold the apologies in. "You will Donut. You just have to believe that you will."

"Like Sarge believed in us?" Donut inquired. "Look where that got him and us."

Grif held his visor in his hands as he cursed his inability to think quickly on his feet. He looked up to the pink soldier who now rested his head facing up towards the ceiling, with eyes closed, engulfed into his own dark world. Grif gripped his hands together and with every ounce of his strength, he summoned the courage necessary, not to only go against his sister's advice, but in the hopes of finding peace. "Donut I- I know what happened was a bad deal. I can't stop thinking about it, about how you got hurt because of me. That trap, when it activated was aimed at me. But instead you sacrificed yourself, you never deserved that. No one kind deserves this. I don't know what I can do to make things right aside from keep on fighting the bastards who did this to you, and I know that no amount of apologies will fix anything. But…I'm sorry."

"You're right, no amount of apologies will fix this broken body," Donut scoffed as he glared in Grif's general direction. "Can you instead give me your spine to fix me?"

Grif moved a little back giving Donut all the answer he needed. The pink one grinned in disappointment. "Not that getting your spine would solve anything since I doubt they could ever transplant that."

"I'm sorry," Grif once again spoke with his head down not only in shame, but in struggle, trying to keep afloat while carrying the guilt. Donut looked back towards Grif and a heavy sigh escaped him. "Grif, ever since my realization from all this, there has been so much anger inside of me. I made the choice to jump in the way of the falling car."

"But I was the one who pushed us to keep on going when you were right in suggesting a retreat."

"You only wanted to do what we all wanted," Donut elaborated. "We just wanted to go home, and for that to happen, we saw that completing that important mission might be our ticket. But so far, its been a…"

"Shit show?"

"Yeah," Donut agreed. "Look, I can't forgive you so easily, not while I still feel this anger. I know I wouldn't be comfortable doing it."

"I understand."

"But I can thank you, thank you for coming to talk to me," Donut spoke with the turn of his head towards the orange one. Grif could almost make out a little smile on Donut's face. "Thank you for not running away."

Grif silently nodded as he stood up, he felt his whole frame shake and his heart ready to crack open his ribs and jump out freely into the world. "We have to keep on believing that you will be fine Donut. It's one of the things that keeps us going after all. I will even join you in your wine and cheese hours once we are back home."

Donut gently smirked with a gentle nod. "Deal."

As Grif walked out into the hallway, he met his sister's eyes. She could tell he was visibly shaken from the experience and wrapped her arms around his bigger frame. "Good job big bro."

He took in a deep breath which she could clearly hear even in the busy hallway. "That was nerve wrecking, I thought I was going to collapse onto the floor and break down in there."

"But you did it," she answered with a tighter grip around him. "And I'm proud of you for that."

"Sorry," Grif answered as he looked away apologetically. "I kind of disregarded your advice."

"Like, as long as things worked out fine," Sister held up a good job thumbs up. "I'm cool with it. Do you feel a bit better now?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Although I would like to feel a whole lot more better."

"You will," she reassured. "With time, you will. Just remember to take all the opportunities you can to be with him, talk with him and don't get too drunk on that wine. Otherwise I'm going to have to be the caretaker like I had to be sometimes when we were kids."

"You are still gonna hold that mess I made back home against me, aren't you?"

"Till the end of the line," she replied with a huge grin. Grif smiled as well as he rested a relaxed hand on Sister's shoulder. She knew that he was in much better spirits and that some peace had been found.

* * *

"Yoo-hoo! Earth to Simmons," the maroon soldier, silently floating in the darkness heard the echoes of a familiar voice. "Are you awake yet?"

His surroundings changed from darkness to blurred, yet a colored recreation room. Simmons rubbed his eyes and gazed up to the purple medic in slight irritation. "What time is it?"

"It's time for you to get your ass in gear," said Doc to the surprise of the red leader. "Um, Doc, what's going on with you?"

The medic stretched his neck as he slowly stood up to take a seat by the bar counter. "Just annoyance Simmons, lots and lots of annoyance."

The maroon one picked himself up with the aid of a nearby chair. As he sluggishly stood up, and he felt his skull split apart at the massive hangover. He looked to the location where he last left it. _Good, it's still here_. He reached for the flask and quickly stored it away before Doc could get a whiff of it. As he pulled his hand out from his pouch, he could remember Sarge's words to him. _I'm not going down a self-destructive path, I'm not_. Simmons saw Doc finally peek over in curiosity. "What's annoying you so much Doc?"

"Grif, and you."

"Me?" Simmons asked, but unsurprised and unscathed by the words. Doc rested one side of his body and let out a relieved sigh as he put all of his weight onto the bar counter. "Okay, maybe that was a bit too mean."

"But we like mean, let's be meaner!" O'Malley suddenly commented only for him to be shoved back by Doc's consciousness. "You and Grif haven't been very cooperative lately."

"What do you mean? We are still able to fight well, and we killed one of their leaders."

"Let me guess, that was out of revenge," Doc stated in a matter of fact tone. He wasn't wrong as he understood from Simmons' subtle reaction. "What I'm talking about is that Grif is being a cry baby and you are being incapable of keeping the team together. At this rate, we won't complete our mission and go home like we want to. We will be stuck fighting on this planet, or worse."

Simmons silently nodded his head as he understood very well of what Doc meant. "So what, even you are going to tell me to tell my feelings and thoughts to go fuck off on the deaths of our comrades? Are you going to tell me to stop being a pansy or something to?"

"If I need to."

"It's not that simple Doc," Simmons reached for one of the whiskey bottles. Doc looked at the action with skepticism in his mind. "Didn't you just drink that whole city of bottles over there? Now you are drinking again, let me guess, the hangovers mean nothing to you."

Simmons popped open the bottle and looked at the medic from the side of his eye. "It helps to dull the pain, and clear my head."

"More like bury it underneath a massive headache."

"Then what do you suppose I do?" Simmons stared into Doc's visor as he held up the bottle to his mouth. "I mean, you are the expert on this stuff after all."

"I don't deal in alcoholism Simmons."

"I'm not an alcoholic."

"But you could become one soon," Doc once again pointed to the large number of empty bottles. "Have you ever thought of taking up a hobby?"

"I already have one," Simmons took a chug of the whiskey as Doc gave a worried look. "I tinker with tech, but that hasn't helped to dull this pain of mine."

"Then take up a new hobby."

"That won't help," Simmons looked at the leftover amount. He was already one-fourth of the way through from that one chug before. "I already tried. The only other thing that seems to work is good old fashioned revenge."

"Do you really believe that works?"

"Hey," Simmons held up his hands in a curious gesture. "I'm still alive and they aren't. I would say that works out pretty well."

"Simmons, why are you letting your guilt control and break you down like this?"

The maroon soldier suddenly froze before he could take another chug of the whiskey. He slowly glared to his side as Doc sat, unmoved by the anger behind Simmons' eyes. "And where the hell do you get that from?"

"Hmm," Doc raised a hand and for each point he raised a finger. "Let's see, self-destructive tendencies, avoiding everyone else, saying you could have done better, and thinking revenge brings you relief, although that one can be just the booze talking. Then there is also the fact that I found you passed out onto the floor. I have never seen you that disorientated before."

Doc studied the number of fingers held up and was impressed at even himself. "Need I go on?"

"So what, are you telling me to shift the blame onto someone else for my incompetency as a leader?" Simmons stood up with a jolt, nearly knocking the booze over. He quickly stumbled back to steady the bottle. "It was because of my leadership that Donut got hurt, Sarge got killed and Lopez had to sacrifice himself!"

Almost as if O'Malley felt a surge in anger, Doc felt all control lost in the face of pure rage exuding from his fragment. O'Malley controlled the bus now. He punched Simmons square in the jaw as he fell down from his right and down against the metal floor. "Do you even listen to yourself you fool?!"

Doc bent down to pick his maroon friend up and acted as a supporting arm for his back. "Look Simmons, it's not your fault. We were given a bloody mission we weren't ready for. In a war, sacrifices are always necessary to survive. Donut, Sarge, the rest of us, we have all made sacrifices, but sometimes those sacrifices don't have a pay off. And sometimes, it's just that as a leader, you have to do your best to succeed those sacrifices. No one man can do it alone, rely on your family, do your best and we can't ask for more."

"But their deaths-"

"That's on the enemy's head," Doc interrupted having run out of patience. "Now we still have a mission to complete, and we need our leader. What do you say?"

Simmons looked at the hand Doc offered to lift him up with and took it into a strong grip. Doc acknowledged the silent agreement as he then motioned out the door. "Have you talked to Grif yet, you know, a proper talk?"

"No, we haven't really spoken much since Sarge's death."

"Well, now might be a good time to," Doc answered as the buzzer ringed on his hospital communicator. It was a signal for him to haul ass to the necessary unit and team for their patients. Simmons sat himself down on the bar stool and let out a tired sigh. He looked at the bottle of whiskey and finished the left over liquid pleasure. He felt his head numb a little and his body wobble. He used his surroundings as support as he slowly went back to his own room and stared at the work desk from the door frame. He gently shook his head and whispered. "I wonder if I will ever get you working."

With a hard fall face first, he sank into the bed and quickly slumbered.

* * *

Ful in bed looked at his communicator. Now on the screen was his father, dressed in the formal fleet master attire. His face was turned away from the camera as he ordered his troops and maintained order. It was a hectic time. Ful could see in the background holographic projection that one of their cruisers had arrived. The father turned back to his son, the once interested expression was now dulled as if he had a menial task to deal with much to his displeasure. "What is it you wanted to talk about?"

"Are you going to board the cruiser?"

"Yes," said the father as he ordered for the troops to load up various supplies. "This may be the last time we speak for a long time. So, speak quickly. What was it you wished to discuss?"

"I wanted to discuss what comes after I complete my mission."

"You have killed quite a few of them, but have failed just as much. The cost for killing them has been too high," the father looked sternly into Ful's eyes. "Yet you think to consider what comes after a mission you have yet to show success in?"

"I want out father."

"Out?"

"Yes," Ful nodded his head as he further went on to explain. "I no longer wish to participate in this war, I want to leave and live my life in peace."

"Perhaps you failed to understand back as a youngling, but when you joined us, there was no way out."

"Please father," Ful begged as his eyes began to glimmer like his younger self's used to. "There must be something that can be done. Some form of political immunity."

"Even if there was, I would not do it for you. You have disappointed me numerous times. You have failed our cause. There are men far braver than you that deserve an opportunity to leave. You however, you will either win this war, or die trying."

"Fa-," however, before Ful could finish, he was met by the black screen. Ful tossed the communicator in anger near his feet. _Why do you do this to me father? I only wished to live a life of peace and solitude_. He looked at the howling noises break through the skies outside, near the landing pads. He saw several Banshees come into view and gently land in formation. It was the new squadron sent by his father. _Even if I were to kill them all, you would never listen to me father. What point is there in continuing this mission then?_ Ful however understood the gravity of the consequences for defiance. He also knew that wanting to quit could just as easily brand him as a traitor. _Sister, the only one who gave a damn as we grew up together is dead. Nothing can bring my mother back. I have killed several humans over time, and yet there is nothing inside of me. No satisfaction, anger, sadness, or happiness. I'm just hollow_.

Ful used his strong muscles to push himself off the bed and slowly walk towards the window. The soldiers just outside the window noticed and saluted. Ful looked at the Banshees and slowly nodded his head. _One way or another, I will obtain my freedom. If I need to against anyone, I will fight you_.

* * *

The loud echo of a dull noise alarmed Simmons as he jolted up too fast for his own liking. He noticed the orange one in the door frame who observed his friend slowly sit up on the bed. Grif walked inside to see the mess of a desk and the helmet that rested to the side of the bed. "It's been a while since I've seen you without your helmet on."

Simmons reached for a jug of water beside the helmet and drank heartily to subdue the hangover. "Doc sent you?"

"Yeah, he suggested that I talk to you."

"He said the same to me," Simmons replied as he fastened the helmet back on. He motioned towards the chair by the work desk. "Well, don't just stand there."

Grif warily reached for the seat as he could sense some hostility in Simmons' voice. "I don't know what we would talk about."

Simmons stood up and began to clear the work desk. "I do."

He stored the left over components into his bag and safely put the phone in one of his pouches. "To be frank, I didn't really like the idea of talking with you again."

Grif gripped his hands on his knees, a little hurt by the words. For as much of a front he may like to put on a mask about not caring, when the words came from the maroon one, they stung him the most aside from his sister. Simmons cleared the last screw off the table top and tied the string around the bag. "It's not easy keeping my cool around your right now."

"I know why that would be," Grif whispered as he slowly looked up to the towering shadow over him. Simmons glared down from the bottom of his eyes and simply scoffed at the orange one beneath him. "If you do, then I doubt we would get very far in this conversation."

"But can't we still talk?"

"What is there to talk about?"

"I don't know," Grif shook his shoulders as he averted his gaze to the messy bed. "I just want to make things right between us two."

"That's a tall order you are asking for."

"I know," Grif replied rather confidently in comparison to his previous responses. "But still, I don't want to give up. Do you Simmons? I know I fucked up royally. In fact, it goes beyond fucking up. Two people were affected by my actions, one of whom was influential to both you and me is dead. I don't feel good about that anymore than you do Simmons."

The maroon one relaxed a little as he sat back down across from Grif. "I have been talking to my sister a lot lately. Shocker, right? But it has been helpful. It has brought a new sense of clarity. I went and spoke with Donut, about time. That helped me to find some peace. But now I want to talk with you, my friend."

"So is this only to find peace for yourself?"

"No," Grif immediately shook his head at the accusation. "I want for us both to find peace. I want for us both to be able to just focus on getting home, to shed some extra weight."

A silence fell upon the two men. Simmons looked everywhere else but at Grif. "Okay, that was my bad. Tell me Grif, have you ever thought of yourself to be a leader?"

"Me? Hell no!" Grif immediately answered with no hesitance in his voice. He gave a questionable look to the maroon soldier. "How could I considering after everything I did, and the things that have happened."

"Want to try it now?"

"Why are you asking me this?"

"Because," Simmons looked at the bag of parts and smirked gently underneath the helmet. "I find myself questioning my place on this team and as a soldier in general."

"You plan on quitting?"

Simmons had no answer. He simply bowed his head in silence. Grif leaned forward, almost a few inches away from his best friend. "If you were to quit, what can you do after this, what are even our options after quitting the military considering our track record?"

"We can do lots," Simmons answered. "For one, we helped stop some of the biggest threats we have seen people face. We have done more than what the UNSC has bothered doing at times. We helped to shape a better future for the Earth. There are lots of options for us. We haven't exactly closed the doors for ourselves."

"You didn't answer my question," Grif spoke back with greater weight to his voice. Simmons sat back up straight as he nodded in agreement. "I'm quickly growing tired of all this. I would much rather sit behind a desk and work with tech than stay out in the front with a gun, killing those I'm ordered to kill. I'm tired of the loss, the emotions that come from these battles and I'm most tired of being responsible for the lives of others."

"Tired or scared?"

"I supposed scared is the better word here," Simmons agreed as he turned to eye the metal walls as a means of a distraction, a comfort for him. Grif shook his head vigorously. "I can't do it. I don't have the spine for it right now."

Simmons stood up in surprise at the words he heard. Grif questioned the action and Simmons did his best to cover up the surprise in his voice. "I never thought you would say something like that. I always figured you would try to make some excuse to be lazy or something."

"Yeah well, this place has changed us."

"Fair enough," Simmons replied as he sat back down. "But I don't know how much longer I can keep on going. This could very well be the last adventure we go on together."

The two men stared at one another in silence before Simmons finally spoke again. "Can you at least try to lead us here and there?"

"Even after everything Sarge did to prepare you, you want to pass that on to someone else and step down?"

"Yes," Simmons looked at the shotgun to his bedside and nodded his head. "I do. There are things we can and cannot do. Right now, I'm no leader. I'm only some guy trying to be half the leader that Sarge actually was."

"What makes you think I can do better? I'm a lazy bastard after all."

"Well, we won't know until you try," Simmons stated. "Plus, you're pretty much the only one left from red team now to consider the position. I just want to be able to live out the rest of my days in peace, and just walk away from the fighting for good."

"Then why not ask Tucker?" Grif inquired only to receive a head shake from his friend. "When things settle down, we leave this planet and are back in the canyon, we are just going to be back in our own bases. While it's good we work together, someone still needs to be there to manage things for the bases. Tucker is already going to manage the blue base alongside Church now, for red base, its best that the person is on red team."

With a reluctant sigh, the orange one looked up to his friend and gave a nod. "Okay, I will think about it."

Simmons nodded in return, pleased at the response. Grif pointed out the door to the nearby window. "What do we do about our target though?"

"We complete the mission."

"You mean kill them to?"

"I…," Simmons failed to formulate the words he searched for. "I know it went against mission directives when we killed that one leader of theirs. I was just so fucking pissed, so much so that if I could, I would have sat there for hours and have slowly choked the life out of them."

"That makes two of us."

Simmons looked up in silent respect for his comrade, one who shared the same feelings and arguably seemed just as lost as him. But now was not the time for them to dwell on this fact, now was the time for action. "Did Gamma tell you anything about that little project the fragments had going?"

"Yeah, they are done," Grif answered as he asked for his fragment to display the enemy location. Simmons brought it up himself and nodded his head. "Grif, I have made a shit ton of mistakes. I know you have to. Revenge is probably one of the worst that I have done at least twice now, all when I could not control my anger, or deal with my grief. Frankly, I still can't, but I hope to make things right. We won't kill this one. This will be a capture operation."

"You're sure?" Grif questioned as he stood up to walk towards the door frame. "This is the alien that killed Lopez, don't forget that."

"If we are not provoked to that extent, then yes, I'm sure we won't."

Grif understood the strain in the voice behind his words. Even now Simmons struggled to hold back the demons of pain and misery all born of his negative emotions. The maroon one reached for his weapons and mounted them to the various parts of his body. "Eta, tell everyone to gather, it's time we plan our attack and get the drop on them for once."

* * *

 **A/N: Shorter than the ones before, but I hope the little bits of character development was good. I would love to hear your thoughts on the development so far.**

 **As always, I appreciate the readership and the patience you show with following my story while hopefully looking forward to the next chapter!**

 **If you have any constructive feedback, please feel free to leave it in the review section. It can help me improve, if not for this story, then perhaps for my other stories!**

 **~ Monty**


	21. Cat kills Mice

**Chapter 20: Cat kills Mice**

Ful walked out into the scorching sun. He lifted his arms with slight effort as he looked towards the gathering of the soldiers. Each one waited for their orders, but orders were something he had none of to give out. He looked at the base patrol and ordered for it to be tightened by assigning more guards to the duty. One of his last ditch orders to give for whenever he runs out of ideas.

"Sir, is that all?"

"Yes, for now," Ful pointed to the Banshees and followed up his statement. "But be prepared to launch those in the event of enemy presence within our territory."

"Understood!" They all shouted in unison. Ful walked back into the building where his bed lied cold, awaiting his return. He took out his communicator and looked at the profile photo of his sister from the bios of all in the squad. _This is the only picture I have of you now. You never were one to be very attracted to the idea of picture taking_. Ful took in a deep breath as he recalled his sister's intense determination to kill the humans. _Was it worth dying over?_ He gently sat down and studied the scar on his abdomen's side. _I wonder if this mission is worth even finishing now for me_. Ful lied down slowly and let the bed, curved at an angle, support his weight. _I swore to escape the fighting after this. I swore to fight anyone who would stand in my way. But what can I truly do to stop an army of believers from tearing me down, one Sangheili?_ Ful closed shut his eyes as he breathed out his fatigue from all the walking. _I am in no shape to move about much let alone fight either. But I know I must. I wonder if my body will break if I were to push it_. Ful gently placed the communicator to his side and rested his mind. As time trekked on, the once light headedness disappeared, and instead came the heavy sensation of being pulled. He was being pulled into an ocean of darkness. Resistance hit his back like the cut of papers flying past all around him. He fell, and he fell, until he finally reached the muscle shattering stop to the bottom. Ful opened his eyes wide at the pain, but he knew this was not real, for there was no place of such darkness in the universe aside from the mysteries of the black holes. But he knew through careful thinking, that this was no black hole, else he would not be alive to ponder such. He slowly sat up and felt the pain be gone in his abdomen. The scar was no more. _If only that could be reality_ , he wished as he rubbed his fingers over the injury point. His senses fired up as his nose flared with the familiar aroma. He heard the walls of darkness split apart in front of him and there was his past home. _So, I am here again_.

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter, and from there came the loud footsteps, echoing into the void. The young Ful ran towards his adult self with a bowl full of his favorite dish. He held it out to his adult self with hopeful eyes. "Go ahead, try it, it is delicious."

Ful stood up to meet his mother's eyes in the distance. She held out a hand, open with pride, and warmth. By her side, in the darkness a fair distance away were his father and sister. The two gave an expected gaze, an expectation for him to come to their side, an expectation to be their well bred warrior and believer, an expectation that weighed far too heavily on his now fatigued mind. He began to turn only to be halted by a strong grip. The young Ful rested the bowl by the adult version's side and looked up in determination to not let go. Ful shook the young one, but he wouldn't budge. "If you turn now, you will be running away forever!"

"No," Ful pushed the young one off him. "I am choosing to shed my past and present. I refuse to be associated to anything like that anymore."

As the young Ful fell with a hard bump to the ground, the mother rushed down to his side and glared up. "Where is that kindness I once saw in my Ful?"

"Your Ful was dead the moment he killed that human soldier the first time."

"And you were born anew to become a beacon of hope for our rightful place in the universe, and yet you want to run away from that to?" the father asked in a stern tone as he shook his head in disappointment. Ful before would have simply bowed his head at the words, but now he glared in their direction, clenched his fists and revealed a most distasteful expression. "As a youngling, I was an ignorant fool, desperate to survive, and now older, I am wiser. What you do, and what I did was wrong. Those innocent civilians we killed of their population, how does that make us better than the human soldiers who raided my village?"

"We fight for a greater purpose!" Shexa interjected as she pumped her fist in glory. Ful gently gazed over to his sister and prompted to respectfully disagree. "No, it makes us the same. Murder of a civilian population, one which does not take any direct part in the war only ends up being casualties due to the actions of our militaries. Our beliefs are just a convenient excuse to shift the guilt. It is certainly a good motivator for the soldiers, but a lie nonetheless."

"Heretic," the father mumbled as he looked to his daughter and back to his son. "I do not remember ever raising such a coward. Why could you not be more like your sister?!"

"Because I choose not to," Ful answered with brimming confidence. "My sister is the individual you created, but I am the person I chose to be of my own free will."

Ful without any second thoughts took a brisk turn and walked towards the endless void, he left the figures of his present and past into the now fading scenery. To him, he wore one of the proudest smiles he ever had in his life thus far. He felt as light as a feather for all the weight quietly floated away. As he walked, the pendulum swings of his arms became wider and more energetic. The strides he took became more vibrant and instead of looking into an endless void, he stared up to the small sliver of light. He looked up to hope and reached out to feel the weight of reality pull him down to his bed. Ful's eyes shot wide open at the ringing in his ears. Soldiers ran outside in a hurry as the base wide alarm was triggered. He slowly stood up and reached for the communicator that was vibrating by his desk.

"Sir, the enemy is attacking."

"What? How would they know we are here?"

"Currently unknown sir," the soldier answered in a hurry. "Please, we need directions out here sir. What should we do to defend the base, what is our strategy?"

"Get the Banshees in the air," Ful stated as his first order. "The foot soldiers are to form a perimeter around the base, ensure nothing gets through."

"What about the injured?"

"That's the perimeter's job," Ful answered as he put on his helmet. "Protect them."

"Yes sir!"

Ful stepped out to see the machines take off into the sky and the soldiers all shout in enthusiasm for their confidence in their abilities. The shuffling feet, thunderous skies with the blasting noises of the Banshees and the audio of the alarm made for an unpleasant tune. It was a tune he had heard so many times before. It was the tune of war.

* * *

High above the clouds, Muffins' Pelican flew with little to no turbulence and stable just as he liked it. Grif took out the small wrapped gift he held onto this whole time and subtly shoved it towards Sister. "What's this?"

"Just open it and see," he answered as she undid the wrapping like a five year old, ecstatic to receive a gift from Santa on Christmas. Her eyes widened at the small holographic project that could connect to her computer. Her face turned into the most joyous smile that for Grif unfortunately hid beneath the visor. She began to throw her arms around Grif when stopped by him. "Okay, you got your gift, happy birthday. Now don't go around hugging me or anything, it's feels weird."

"Aww, the big brother feels embarrassed, how precious," Tucker mused sarcastically only to see a middle finger of screw off pointed his way. Sister took the device out and studied it from every inch. "Oh, I can use this to display my special collection of hot guys and make it seem real as I masturbate. Thanks for the present big bro!"

Grif looked down at the floor, sighed in deep contemplation and closed shut his eyes in self-disappointment. _What else could I expect from her aside from making this weird?_

"We're almost at the drop off point my sexies," said Muffins. Simmons looked at each and every member. "You all remember your roles, correct?"

"Yeah," Tucker answered as he cracked his knuckles. "We got this."

Simmons tapped Grif on the arm with a nod in the direction of the rest. "I will let you take the steering wheel from here."

"Um, okay," Grif rubbed his two hands together, doing his best to suppress stage fright as he was suddenly met with the gazes of many. "Go break a leg everyone…yay….yeah."

"This is our leader?" inquired Mike as Tucker agreed. "I'm worried already."

"I just want to know, do we get pudding for doing good leader man Grif?" Caboose inquired with an intense stare. Grif stared up from Caboose to his own mentor. Simmons shook his shoulder in his defense. "Don't look at me, you are the pudding guy. You carry loads with you, don't you?"

"Seriously, is that all I'm now, a pudding guy?"

"Well in that fat suit of yours," Simmons pointed out. "Anyone can see you carrying at least a dozen."

"And you are too nerdy," Grif answered with mild irritation. "So we can't all be perfect Simmons, deal with it."

"Before we go guys," Iowa looked at the rest as they looked his way. "I gotta say, while it's been shit being here, and we lost people, a lot of people, I'm still glad that we are together."

"Where is that coming from?" inquired Doc, O'Malley suddenly held the steering wheel. "Yes, do tell us my dear Iowa. Tell me what it is so that I may crush it with my bare hands of awesomeness, mwhahahaha!"

"I dunno," Iowa answered with a most innocent stare. "It's just that with us being together, and fighting it through the tough times like we have been ever since I joined you guys, it reminds me of the _others_."

Caboose wrapped an arm around Iowa and cheered up in the air. "And here is to more fun times with everyone, yay!"

"Yeah, more fun times!" Iowa cheered in response as the others silently raised their hand. Iowa turned to see the bay doors slowly open. Muffins engaged the auto-pilot and walked out to the warriors. "Okay my sexies, here we are. Ready to go on a fun time adventure? I wish I could go to, I love skydiving."

"This isn't a vacation trip Muffins," reminded Tucker as he maintained some distance from the German pilot. Caboose agreed as he crossed his arms and flexed his face into a most serious one. "Yes, we are here on some super-duper serious business!"

"Not helping," Mike commented upon hearing the playful voice. Simmons agreed as he prompted for the occupants to stand. He let Grif take the lead who shook his limbs in preparation, but mostly out of nervousness. "Okay, everyone know the landing zone?"

"Yes sir," Simmons spoke as he took his spot behind Grif. The orange one looked back and held up his right hand. "Once I reach zero, we jump one by one!"

"You got it big bro!" Sister echoed as she was happy to see something distract her brother, and the minor peace he seemed to have found. It was slow progress in her eyes, but progress that was better than nothing. As Grif reached zero, he took in a deep breath to quell his urges to run to the back of the line, and took the first jump. He felt the immediate rush of air hit his suit and took a plank like body formation in which his arms were tucked against his sides, and his legs joined together to create a straight line from his head to toe. He cut through, but the moisture in the air hit his visor hard creating small water pellets. The others followed. The fragments kept a track of their quickly declining altitude.

Gamma quickly activated the jet boosts below the chest armor as did the others. Once they were falling vertically, but they began to level and turn diagonal. The aliens took notice of the raining humans and opened fire. With precise control, the BGC avoided direct fire with only a few depletions to their shields. They all took a hard landing and rolled to find cover. Grif looked at Simmons who waited patiently for his next order. _Dammit, I knew I shouldn't have agreed to this. I just want to go home and lie in my fucking bed already while pigging out on some nachos_. He made hand motions for Tucker who turned his attention to their leader. Tucker looked at the orders and immediately shook his head. "That's suicide and I'm not doing it!"

"Oh great," Grif moaned as he looked back to Simmons, who was already busy charging the enemy positions. _I guess he doesn't have a problem with suicide missions then, great_. Grif observed Simmons draw all the fire towards him, and in quick response, the BGC took out the assailants. O'Malley with his A-Game stepped up to the challenge wielding the best rocket launcher he could find in the hospital's armory. A maniacal laughter echoed with screams of terrors raised from the extremists as they flew into the air from the explosions, and landed to the hard embrace of the dirt ground. "Move now you fools!"

* * *

Everyone rushed into the base, having broken the enemy formation on the defensive perimeter and eyed the command base. Mike pointed in its general direction. "There, we can get a better grasp of the situation from there. They will probably have some of their own there as well that we can interrogate."

"You all heard the man," Tucker ran ahead with the rest following in a hurry. Grif huffed heavily, almost like a dying cat. "Slow down guys…I- I need five here."

"Oh come on fatty," Tucker looked back in annoyance. Simmons agreed. "You need to lose all that fat the pudding put on you. See, I have been saying this whole time, pudding is bad for your physique if you don't plan on working out!"

"You take that back you pudding hating heretic!" Grif shouted in response stunning the maroon one. Sister helped her brother along. "That's enough out of you mister, now get your ass in motion otherwise I'm taking all that pudding and giving it to Caboose, and you know how long it will be before it's all gone right?"

"I shall feast to my heart's content!" Caboose shouted as he looked at Iowa. "And I will share lots with you to Iowa!"

"Yay, pudding!" Iowa exclaimed as he and Caboose jumped out of the way of oncoming cannon fire from the base mounted guns on the main tower. Tucker looked to his right, enemies were gathering, he looked to his left, and enemies were gathering. All around, it was as if a pack of hungry wolves gathered around their prey. "Sigs, Church, any ideas?"

"If I may, I have a suggestion," Delta spoke as he appeared by Tucker's side. Without any words exchanged, Church and the other fragments knew. The blue powdery one appeared and cut Delta off from speaking any further. "Just do it."

"What is he doing?" asked Simmons a little worried as they began to see some changes already in Caboose's demeanor. His once upright posture began to hunch over, his arms closed in on themselves against his chest and a moan of struggle escaped him weak form. He was almost turned into a ball, almost as if he was fighting against whatever Delta was attempting. In Caboose's mind, Delta begged for the blue one to let go and relax. Finally, that once sweet and innocent voice turned deep, and low-pitched. "Owah, my name is Michael J. Caboose, and I'm the wrecker of aliens, stealer of pudding and the taker of candies from little babies!"

Caboose in all his fury ran in the direction to his front and kicked one alien back. The momentum and force behind the kicked pushed several back until it cleared open a path. Tucker looked at the result in shock as his mouth dropped open. "You know, it would be nice if he was able to do that at will."

"Maybe if you stomped a few kittens in front of him, he may be able to do that then," Iowa theorized only to feel a little put off by the imagery. "But then again, I don't like stomping kittens."

"I bet this version of Caboose would though," said Sister as she continued to shoot those at a distance and keep them at bay. Grif led the group through the newly opened path and ordered for fire to shift from the front to this sides and back. From the base's main tower, Ful observed the closing enemy. He walked over to the weapons storage, where his own weapons were kept and took his axe in one hand, and attached the chain through a clip to his belt as the weapon then dangled to the side. He took a few plasma grenades and a Needler, an option he opted for with agility in mind. To his loyal soldiers, he spoke and gave what he imagined to be his final strategic order. "Tell all the soldiers that eighty percent of them are to retreat to nearby friendly bases. For the remaining twenty percent, that includes those already in engagement, they are to stay and support me. Regardless of the outcome of this fight, those left alive will retreat."

The soldiers looked at one another in concern and an ultimate feeling arose in their beating hearts. "Yes sir."

Ful led a small squad of soldiers out of the building and met the stares of his enemies in the distance as they met his. Simmons threw his rifle to the side and took a hold of the shotgun. "There you are you bastard."

Grif looked behind him at the energy exuded by his comrades. He looked back to find the enemy beginning their charge. Just as they revved up for their own charge, they heard the skies split apart and from the clouds descended several Banshees. Simmons reached for his radio. "Muffins, we need some air backup here."

In the air, Muffins flew up and down with extreme shifts in the gravity going back and forth with his momentum. "A little busy here my dear Simmons!"

Behind his Pelican, were three Banshees, all engaged in a dog fight. As Muffins did his best to shake them off his tail, the enemy would just come back stronger, smarter and able to track him better. The enemy was quickly able to learn and adapt. Simmons cursed their luck as he ordered for all to scatter. As the Banshees shot at the ground, masses of rock flew into the air, along with it was the charging enemy that still persisted in their aggressive mission. Simmons blew a few meters away from his original spot as the blast wave knocked him back. He stood up and ordered for a temporary retreat, but Grif took note of the missing object on Simmons` back. As the enemy charged closer, they stopped in their track when the Banshees began another round of air drops, only this time closer to them. He looked all around amidst the destroyed buildings, the dead bodies and the scorched land until he finally found it.

* * *

In the smoke filled blue skies, shots fired above the orange soldier's head. He ran only eyeing one object on the ground as his goal. He jumped over dead bodies with his eyes shot wide open and heart palpitating. _This is fucking crazy!_ He almost fell from the tremors of a nearby land explosion. Ariel bombardment took place all around him.

"Grif, come back!" shouted his maroon friend. "You are going to get yourself killed!"

"I'm not leaving it behind!" Grif yelled in response as he nearly choked from the shock of a falling plane nearly missing him. He was blown forward by the ground impact. His shield held up strong. _I guess the army does create decent things once in a while_. He stood up to notice the many occupied in an ongoing battle. UNSC soldiers fired, punched and struggled against the extremist Sangheili who still held on to old beliefs that first encouraged the war between them and the humans. Grif narrowly avoided a stray shot from his right. He heard the incoming barrage. Much to his displeasure, he jumped down into a pile of dead bodies that acted as his shield. _Okay, almost there Grif, you can do this. You can make him proud._

He pushed a body off of his back and looked around. "Gamma, I need you here."

"How can I help you Grif?" asked the A.I. fragment in a very monotone voice. Grif looked to his miniature light blue human shaped companion. "I need to get to that weapon over there, tell me when I'm good to make a run for it."

"Understood," Gamma looked around absorbing the information and asked. "May I ask why it is you are risking your life so badly for one weapon?"

"It's precious, that's why."

"I do not understand how a device used for killing can be considered precious."

"It's a human thing," argued Grif keeping a low head. "Do I have a clear route yet?"

"Yes, but only for five seconds at best. Go now."

Grif bolted for his goal in sight. He jumped for the gun so close to his reach. Midair however he felt a force opposing his goals. A tight grip rested on his leg as it swung him down to the ground hard!

He looked up to find a familiar Sangheili with his ever so imposing stare. Grif shuffled backwards as the large figure slowly stomped towards him. With heavy breaths of fear and panic, Grif tried reaching for his sword. Visions of Donut's incident once again haunted him. _Will I end up like him?_ Grif finally managed to grip the sword. _No, I will survive!_

"Grif!" shouted an aqua blue armored soldier. He took out his rifle and opened fire. "Get out of there!"

The orange soldier activated his sword and moved his sword in a piercing motion. Before he could make contact however, he was stopped midway by the enemy who started crushing his arm. Grif lost his grip on the sword and the Sangheili kneed him in the gut. The orange soldier gritted his teeth and cursed his foolish bravery. He crawled to the shotgun and felt his mission to be a partial success. _At least I'm not a complete failure. I will protect this no matter the cost_. Yet that cost may seem closer than he had originally thought. The Sangheili pushed one foot onto Grif's back. There was an audible crack of his muscles with a loud painful scream.

"We have to get him out of there!" said Sister as she nearly abandoned her weapon and ran for Grif only to be stopped short by Simmons. "Use your head, what you are doing is suicide!"

"Yeah, there is another way of getting him back," said Church as he and the other fragments displayed a holographic visual of his plan. Sister pointed to the enemy who raised his hammer weapon that once hanged by his belt. Simmons nearly gasped from the shock. The final blow was about to be delivered with extreme prejudice. The Sangheili stared at his prey and swung the hammer down while scoffing words of insult. "Filthy human!"

"Big bro!" Sister ran out, only for Simmons to barely graze her in his failed attempts to stop her. He looked to his side and could see the disappointed glance of Sarge who stood by his side with arms crossed, and head shaking as he stared down to the ground. _I can't let things repeat as they have been, I can't let others die_. Simmons ran out behind her as another raid from the air began to come down. Ful looked back at the running humans and retrieved his Needler. However, before he could take aim, the bombs fell and she went flying like a rag doll forcibly ejected from a cannon. Everyone of the BGC stared in horror as they saw her motionless body hit the ground like a steel ball. Her body remained frozen, unable to relax the muscles. Simmons stared at Doc who did not even need to retrieve his medical scanner device to know the outcome. "Its armor lock, it's the only thing keeping her alive right now, so don't play with it."

Caboose charged right in and knocked Ful away to the ground. Caboose jumped atop him and just before he could take a seat on Ful's face. Before he could land a blow to Ful's face, several of the aliens ganged up on the blue soldier and kicked him out of the circle of abuse. Grif stood up and reached for his sword. With a swift motion, he stabbed the object through Ful's chest, who could feel one of his hearts gone. He looked down in shock. As the sword deactivated upon his touch, he kept a tight grip on the open, but cauterized wound. Simmons quickly went in and picked up the shotgun. _Thanks Grif_ , he thought at the sentiment of how important the weapon was to him as well. Without a second thought, with no fear and with no reservations, he opened fire. Mike rushed up to the maroon one as he left Tucker's side who was busy slicing and dicing the enemy. "Hey, we need to capture him alive!"

"Does it look like the time for that?!" asked Simmons who pointed to the murderous intent behind Ful's eyes as well as his soldiers'. Iowa jumped into the fray to defend his best friend. He shot many to keep at bay and slowly bent down to help the enraged Caboose up. The blue soldier let out a loud roar and sent shivers down the enemy's spine. Caboose started running with heavy footsteps as he left cracks behind. With the aid of his biceps, he rammed many down, one after another and stomped on the heads of others. Tucker fought to keep those behind them from reaching the others any closer. "Stab, take that bitch!"

As Ful reached down for his melee weapon and muffled some inaudible words, he slowly hobbled across to Grif and rested one knee on the orange one's chest. Grif felt his eyes immediately open wide at the squeezing sensation against his lungs. He reached for the alien knee and smashed his hands against it in desperation. As his struggling coughs and hopeless breathing increased, he felt his mind grow numb and his world darken. Iowa jumped in to push the hulking mass off his friend, but he was pushed away easily. Iowa let out a large squeal as he looked down in horror. Before the darkness could take him whole, Ful was pushed forward by the impact to his shields. He pushed downward on Grif's helmet as he stood up. Behind him stood Simmons, who had the barrel raised up to Ful's face level. "You should not have done that human."

"Then you shouldn't have messed with my family," Simmons announced before he proceeded to blast his adversary with a great many shots. Three shots in, the shield was depleted. Fifth shot in, it pierced nearly all the way through his body from his open wound, and the seventh shot in, Ful felt the pain finally affect his bulky form as his knees struggled to support his weight. He fell to the ground with a loud thud, and alerted his comrades all around. Simmons reloaded the shotgun and slowly approached the enemy with every precaution in mind. Mike rushed up to the desperate body and bent down by his side. "Tell us all that you know about where your bases are!"

Ful suddenly reached for his Needler with all his might and pointed it at the ODST. Before he could shoot however, the weapon fell down to Ful's side as he now lied motionless, pulse stopped. Simmons had pumped his mouth full of led, quite literally as there was now a gaping hole from the back of Ful's mouth to the ground. For the alien, he escaped his restraints in a sense, albeit his most disliked and feared method. The other aliens looked at the body of their dead and dear leader. Many shouted cries of rage, and many fell at the hands of Caboose, Tucker and Grif thanks to their alien swords and O'Malley with his rocket launcher. It was not long before the enemy finally retreated. Tucker looked at them all with his arms raised in the air and his voice most cocky. "Yeah, you assholes better run!"

Grif held up two middle fingers in another direction. "And don't show yourselves to me ever again, you hear me you jackasses?!"

* * *

Grif ran over to his sister and checked her condition. He promptly stopped himself from moving her all by himself upon Doc's suggestion. The purple medic moved others to quickly bring a stretcher from one of the hospital buildings to relocate her.

"Oh no," Caboose mumbled as the rest looked at the now clearly shaken blue soldier. Caboose ran towards Iowa to see the sharp jagged stray metal piece from an already destroyed building pierce him all the way through. Iowa breathed heavily and looked all around in a panic, as if trying to move but was held down by his best friend. Caboose gazed around until he eyed the purple one. "Doc, please, you have to help him!"

The medic checked the wound and pointed towards the buildings. "Help me carry him into the hospital ward."

Inside one of the many rooms, Doc studied the equipment. It was clearly different from anything he had ever seen. "So I have some bad news."

Cabooses ears perked up at the voice, but quickly fell down again. Doc pointed to the various equipments around the room and explained. "I have no idea on how to operate these things. They are of alien in nature."

"Whoa, what will happen to Iowa?" asked Tucker, now with growing concern evident in his voice. Doc looked at the patient's condition and shook his head in uncertainty. "I honestly don't know. I patched his wound up the best I could, but now it all depends on how fast Muffins can get here, and how long Iowa is able to hold on. Speaking of Muffins, I need to go make an evacuation call."

Caboose took gentle strides by Iowa's side and sat down on the empty seat. He looked down longingly as he felt his feet tap the floor. The others looked at the desperation in his mind once his body began to rock back and forth in worry and impatience. Tucker stood by the blue one's side and gently patted his shoulder. "Caboose, sitting here like this won't solve the problem. We just have to hope that Muffins comes by fast enough."

Simmons walked out of the room and into the one where Sister lay now limp. Her armor lock was undone thanks to Church, but her body still suffered from damages. Her consciousness abandoned her and her brother sat with worry looming over his shoulders. He held his hands together, in a praying gesture, as if to make whatever effort he could to beg for her safety. Simmons slowly approached the orange one by his right side and took a seat into a free chair. "Grif, there is nothing else that can be done for her right now."

"I know," he answered slowly shaking his head. "It's just that, I didn't really think that this could happen to me. Fuck me, why did she even run out, why did no one try to stop her?!"

"I tried," Simmons explained as he looked to his right. The red leader was not there. "But she was already far too out into the scuffle. It was too late as the explosions came pretty fast."

"Dammit," Grif almost bumped his fist against the bed, but restrained himself at the last moment. "Aside from mom, she is the last blood related family I have. What am I going to tell mom?"

Simmons remained quiet, slowly averting his gaze towards the floor. Grif rested his visor in his hands as he still felt the denial of the situation. "How the hell am I supposed to cope with this?!"

"Grif," Simmons spoke in a stern and demanding voice. He had the orange one's attention, and with it came the pressure to follow up. "She is still alive, remember that. Once she is off planet, we can have her looked at and I'm sure she will be back to her perky self again. Who knows, she may even go around boasting about how much of a big baby her brother is to be sitting here and crying himself silly."

Grif smirked underneath the helmet and nodded in understanding. He gently smothered Sister's visor with his fingers as he slowly stood up. _Sleep well_. And they were finally on their way. The two entered the room occupied by Iowa and saw Caboose still sitting by his friend's side. Tucker gave a small shake of his head. _No good huh_ , wondered Simmons as he looked around the room. "Is Mike gone to report in to the commanders?"

"Yeah," Tucker walked to their side as he dragged a chair over and planted his bottom into it. "That would be my best guess, what else can we do here?"

* * *

Up in the space station, the commander sat with a most dissatisfied stare at the screen. Mike could feel the anger seep through the screen just from staring into the man's eyes. In a sudden fit of anger, a need for relief, he stood up and shoved his desk lamp towards the wall. As the light bulb inside blew out, he huffed and puffed deeply. Mike hesitated to say anymore as their failures already amounted to more than his threshold could clearly handle. The commander turned back to the communicator, where his face was red from the release and sweat glistened on his forehead from the worry. "What else do you have to report?"

"Nothing more, sir."

"I knew I shouldn't have left it up to those amateurs," the commander mumbled which caused Mike to shift a little in his spot, a gesture to hold back his words. The commander however, ignorant to his own words continued. "I should have sent in more backup to help the useless lot out. There goes my fucking promotion."

"Sir," Mike finally had it. He held the communicator tightly, with it shaking ever so slightly. "Is this really the time to worry about your promotion over the mission and the lives of your soldiers?"

"Lives of my soldiers?" the commander nearly laughed. "In case you didn't realize, you are all expendable. I can get dozen more guys like you, but my promotion only comes once in a while."

That was it, the last blow. Mike's eyes immediately shot up in a fit of rage. He gritted his teeth, silently warning the commander to stand down, but the man would not heed the advice. "You ungrateful, incompetent, shitty commander, I won't listen to you anymore. As of this moment, the reds, the blues and I are going to be making efforts to leave this planet, you no longer hold any control over us!"

"Watch your tone you lowly soldier!" the commander retorted as if thinking of himself to be a superior being, but in reality, superior only in status. "I will court martial you!"

"Go right ahead," Mike snapped back as he glared straight at his previous superior. "See if I give a damn."

"I will court martial all of y-."

Mike threw the communicator away in a release of pent up frustration. He let out a deep breath and whispered. "You talk too much."

* * *

As Mike headed back, he nodded towards Doc who just returned as well. Grif looked at the proud stride Mike took and asked. "You were off getting new orders for us to be slaves for?"

"No," Mike replied surprising all in the room. "I was busy telling the commander to fuck off."

"You know what, I can get used to you," Grif answered with a small grin. Mike walked to the center of the attention as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Here is the best part, I told him we are getting off this planet. You guys should have seen his reaction, priceless. So, while this does technically make us traitors to the UNSC, or at least his division, what do we do now?"

Tucker wore a big smile as he stood up and gently patted Mike on the back. "Meh, being fugitives is nothing new, been there, done that. Anyways, Doc, what's the status on Muffins?"

"Well you guys got the good news, now I'm here to-"

Before Doc could finish, Grif held up his finger of absolute silence. "Don't you say it."

But his finger failed as his presence lacked the intimidation needed to silence others. Doc looked out the window with a long sigh. "I'm here to give the bad news. It will be at least until tomorrow before Muffins can come back to us safely. Right now he is engaged in battle with the enemy ships, but even if he is able to get away before tomorrow, he can't risk coming right back and bringing the enemy to us again."

"You told him about Iowa right?" Caboose asked in worry as he stood up and jogged over to Doc's side. The medic nodded in silence. Caboose took the purple medic by his arms and shook him violently. "Then why?!"

"Caboose, calm down," Tucker separated the two as he stood in the way like a wall. "It can't be helped, all we can do now is make him and Sister feel comfortable until tomorrow."

Caboose dejected, sat back down with his face turned away from the rest. He leaned forwards on the bed and sniffled ever so slightly. His mind looped in on itself over and over again only thinking about one thing. _It's not fair. You are such a nice best friend Iowa. It's not fair that this happened_. Caboose took in a deep breath and let out a reasonably loud, yet relaxing melody as a flow of air escaped his mouth to create sound. His lips stretched out close together and whistled in an effort to keep spirits up. Doc reached forward towards the blue soldier. "Caboose, he needs rest and silence right now."

"This is Iowa's favorite tune," Caboose retorted as he gently pushed Doc's hand off. "I'm going to sing it for him so he gets better faster."

Doc moved to protest once more, but was quickly stopped by Tucker with a firm grip to the shoulder. "Let him Doc, he knows Iowa better than any of us. If he thinks that whistling will get him up faster, then I say go for it, also, bow-chika-bow-wow!"

"And there goes the moment," Simmons turned and walked out of the room with Grif following. The others quickly left, left the blue soldier to get lost in his own whistling as he kept a close eye on Iowa's calm face. The sun was setting over the horizon, and the night was just beginning. Now arrived the true test for Iowa in his struggle to live.

* * *

 **A/N: How'd you all enjoy that?**

 **The story finally catches up to the prologue. Ful is dead, how did you guys feel about that final confrontation?**

 **But the story is not over just yet, there are still a couple more chapters to go to help wrap things up and leave some things open-ended perhaps.**

 **Constructive feedback is always welcomed!**

 **Thank you for sparing your time to read my story. I appreciate the readership and support!**

 **~ Monty**


	22. Evacuation Time

**Chapter 21: Evacuation Time**

Simmons slowly cracked open his eyes. He felt a weightlessness to his body as it was surrounded by a pure darkness. _Here again?_ He heard a patter, as if the sound of bare feet hit against a smooth metal floor.

"Hey Tech Buddy!" spoke Edwards, at Simmons' waist level. Elsie with the aid of her cane slowly moved in their direction. Her warm smile sent shivers down his spine. She reached down to touch his shoulder and nodded her head in reassurance. Edwards reached deep into his pocket, and with a shining smile amidst this darkness he held out an object in his hands. "Here, I have something for you, to remember me by!"

Simmons bent down to Edwards' level and took hold of the phone. He flipped the screen open. The light on the screen suddenly came to life, and a call rang through the speakers. He promptly reached over with his thumb to answer the alert. "Hello?"

A loud sound echoed without rest, static ringed in his ears, the noise was most disturbing as it still managed to pierce the deepest recesses of his mind. But as quickly as the noise started, it stopped with a heavy breathing audible from the phone. "Tech Buddy…"

Simmons remained quiet this time, hoping for something to change, hoping to avoid hearing those words from before once more. But the past cannot be outrun or changed. "You…let…me…die!"

The young boy gripped his friend by the arms and suddenly began to heat up. Steam escaped his skin until it began to slowly peel off and his innards lit up on fire. Simmons struggled against the grip as he fell to the ground, failing to fight back against Edwards' force. The fire eventually spread throughout Edwards' arms and drained the maroon soldier of all his shields. The fire began to spread on his armor, and the intense heat was felt by his skin. He grunted in slight discomfort as his body began to sweat heavily. But then Donut stood opposite to the two and slowly walked closer. "You let me get hurt."

"No, please, I wanted to save you, all of you!"

Donut rested his hands around Simmons' neck and gently applied pressure from both sides. Simmons struggled against his two assailants now slowly losing strength. "Agh…please, I wanted…to save you."

"But you stood there as I died," spoke Edwards further increasing the intensity of the fire. Donut choked even harder. "You didn't organize well enough, nor did you plan that caused me to lose my ability to move. You are an ignorant leader, and I paid the price for it!"

"No..," he reached out towards Donut's neck, but quickly his arm numbed. Sarge stood in the distance alongside Lopez and Sister, and simply observed the unfolding events. He shook his head disappointed, and gasped in pain as the sting of the needle returned through his left waist side and the middle of the chest. Blood dripped onto the dark floor in large quantities. The older man fell to his knees and looked down at his bloodied hands. Donut leaned in close towards Simmons' ears and applied more pressure. "You let Sarge die and now you sit here like a pathetic man hoping for pity from others. You are a failure as a leader, and as a soldier. If you can't protect your own family, how can you protect others? You failure! How many more do you gotta drag down with you?!"

Lopez's chest blew open as his inner contents revealed themselves from the many piercing blades. Battery acid dripped onto his other components, setting them on fire and his light went out. Donut leaned even closer. "You even failed to strategize against our enemy. That cost Lopez his life in an effort to save the rest of you."

Sister suddenly blew up into the air like a lifeless rag doll. Her arms and legs flailed from the shockwave in the air as she flew and tumbled down a few meters away from them. Donut was now mere inches away from Simmons as he gave a stare most paralyzing. "You hesitated to act, and so Sister too got hurt. Now answer me, how many more do you gotta drag down with you?!"

Simmons shot open his bloodshot eyes. He studied his surroundings with quick motions of his eyes scanning everywhere. It was mid-night outside. Simmons rested his hand over his forehead only to sigh. _Again I had that nightmare and the same after effects_. Simmons sat up with a grunt as he stretched his face muscles, creating an effort to sit still, rather than fall back down to the embrace of sleep. He reached for the dry cloth to his side and wiped his forehead. Within the cloth, it became nearly completely soaked from the side he wiped on. _If I had a penny for every sweat I released right now, I would be a millionaire_. He rested the cloth to his side and shook his head out of his worried trance. _I guess I can say goodbye to sleeping for now then_. He sat down by an empty desk and pulled out his parts of electrical components. What little was left he neatly laid it out, but before he began, he reached for his now rather nasty habit. Simmons took a good chug from the flask and felt the liquid hit his system hard. It shook him to the core and woke him up real good. The whiskey now became his companion, and choice of poison.

* * *

The next morning, Tucker stretched his legs outside as he took a walk amongst the ruins. It was then he saw just how much the enemy had remodelled their base. _Well its back with us now at least_. He turned to stop by the hospital building, inside Iowa's room still sat Caboose. As the silence settled around Tucker, he heard the gentle, desperate and compassionate whispers of the dark blue soldier. Yet Iowa lied motionless to the words. The begging from Caboose went unanswered. Caboose asked for him to wake up so that they can play many card games, play the list five things game, eat lots of cake, have a party and continue to be the best of friends. Yet the words seemingly fell on deaf ears. Tucker walked in with quiet footsteps as he checked up on Iowa. His eyes nearly widened in shock, but quickly maintained composure.

"Tucker," the aqua soldier heard the dark blue one call out. Tucker could tell that even Caboose, in all his simplicity, realized the truth of the situation. Caboose looked up like a longing puppy as he spoke in a nearly cracked voice. "Tucker, Iowa, he-"

Before Caboose could finish, Tucker shook his head. "Don't say it Caboose, it will only hurt more. I will go get Doc."

Grif sat by his sister's side as he constantly kept a vigilant watch over her. He saw Tucker walk by in an unusual manner. Red flags raised in the orange one's head. _I wonder what happened_. Grif stood up to slowly walk out of the room and noticed the aqua one's quick return, but this time with Doc and Mike behind him. Simmons was quick to catch up with questions. "Why did you want to talk to me Tucker?"

"Grif, you come to," Tucker announced as he led the way into Iowa's room. Caboose noticed the whole group together. He looked down to his friend and up at Doc. With a quick checkup, Doc could no longer deny the possibility Tucker presented. He shook his head in helplessness, and once more he was unable to save his friends. Caboose slouched back into his chair as his mind went completely blank, heavy and numb. "No…not Iowa to."

Doc raised the bed sheets over Iowa's face and noted the time of death based on this checkup. Grif looked at the downed atmosphere as he slowly left the area. His mind was already in tatters, now there was more misery to split it apart further. Mike witnessed the scene quietly with his head low out of respect as Tucker consoled Caboose. Simmons quietly took out his flask. However it was not something that was gone unnoticed by Doc. But the purple one let the maroon one fuel this new habit. Right now, none of them were in any mood nor did they have the energy to argue. Simmons take a good chug of the whiskey and felt the strong sensation hit him hard as his eyes squeezed shut from the sharp feeling at the top and the back of his mouth. Simmons felt new life kick into him as he slowly shook his head and shivers were sent down his spine.

The room went completely silent, almost as if waiting for the dead to speak. Caboose stood up while gripping the edge of the bed, and through what Tucker could barely hear, it seemed like a silent weep. The aqua soldier rested a reassuring hand on Caboose's shoulder with a firm grip. "Come on Caboose, we should get out of here to let Doc finish up his work. It might be a good idea to go outside for a while."

Doc thanked Tucker for his cooperation as the rest quickly left. Outside, Caboose aimlessly followed Tucker who did his best to get his friend to talk, but only silence was the response everytime. Mike looked at the dark blue one with pity as he could recall the feelings of extreme grief that he felt when he witnessed his brother's corpse and heard about his sister-in-law's death. He ached to reach out to Caboose and talk with him, to let him know that he knows his pain all too well, but he knew that he didn't understand Caboose well enough to confidently say that to him. Instead, he was left to powerlessly observe from the side lines and let Tucker drive the vehicle.

* * *

Grif sat by Sister's side in deep thought. He pondered the expression Caboose could have been possibly wearing upon coming face to face with the realization. He looked up to his sister and leaned in close. "You have gotta pull through."

He heard a knock on the door and saw the purple medic in the doorframe. "Hey Grif, I need to do a quick checkup on her."

"Yeah, go right ahead," the orange one quickly composed himself as he stood out of Doc's way. The medic studied the various vitals coming from her armor and made certain notes on his pad. The purple one eyed Grif from the side of his eyes just as he finished writing down the last of the information. "How long have you been here?"

"Since yesterday I guess."

"So you haven't gone to your room to sleep yet?"

"I slept here."

"Still," Doc protested as he pointed towards Grif with a heavy tone. "You need to get some proper rest Grif. You won't be of much help to the team if you are deprived of rest. You will just slow everyone else down."

"I will rest once she wakes up."

"If she wakes up anytime soon that is," Doc added only to earn a most angry glare. Grif flexed his fingers by his side to where his sword rested, as if to calm his nerves. O'Malley however found the whole action amusing. "Oh please, I dare you to bring it. I will kick you through dimensions and back again."

"Go back into your hole O'Malley!" Doc shouted just as the maniac took over again. "You are not my mom, you can't tell me what to do!"

"Err, sorry about that Grif," Doc rubbed the back of his helmet as he saw the disgruntled body posture on his friend. The orange one waved him off. "Yeah, I know you can't control him fully. I just wish I could punch you though."

"I don't support violence."

"But it would make me feel better," Grif grinned. "And medics are all about making others feel better right, especially if they are in need of it?"

"First, let's be glad Tucker isn't here right now," Doc raised a finger, followed by another lifting. "Two, there are limits to what I can do to make you feel better! Getting punched is not one of them."

"Dang," Grif crossed his arms as he looked away in frustration. "You are so stingy."

"And you are acting out of character, what gives?"

Grif shook his shoulders in cluelessness as he pointed towards his sister. "Is she okay?"

"Her vitals are stable for now and there seems to be no more problems with her," Doc mentioned as he put the pen away. "The bruising is healing as well. It should heal on its own. When she regains consciousness, it's best that I be there. But, take my advice Grif. Stop worrying so much and go take some rest."

"Like I said," Grif began, but before he could finish, Doc finished the sentence for him. "You will rest when she wakes up, I heard the first time. Just take it as some kind advice from a worried friend."

* * *

As Simmons used up the final part from his bag of supplies for the phone, he checked its status. It still wouldn't turn on. _I'm still missing something. I guess I will go parts hunting later_. He checked his flask and shook is lightly. Some noises echoed from one corner to the other of the metal walls. He unfastened the top and drank it with great ferocity.

"Treating it like water now Simmons?"

He nearly choked at the voice as he turned to his immediate right. There sat his figure. "Sarge? Again with one of these visions, and I know I'm not drunk this time, or at least I hope I'm not."

The red man stood up to reveal the pink one by his side. Soon, Lopez entered from the doorway with Edwards and Elsie behind him. _What's going on?_ Simmons looked at all the figures surrounding him. He slowly stood up as they began to grow closer. With every step they took, he took one back until finally he hit a wall. He felt the bumping sensation. He subtly pinched himself and could feel the pain course through his nerves. _This is reality_. Edwards pointed to the flask with a disappointed and angered stare. "How could you do this Simmons? I thought you were stronger than this!"

The maroon one remained quiet at seeing the emotions swirl from disappointment and anger to sadness. The boy's eyes glistened with tears as he saw a broken visage of his tech buddy. "I looked up to you, I respected you, you were special to me Simmons, but why did you become this?"

"Why did I…," Simmons looked at the young boy shocked as Elsie moved to comfort him. _No, you are not real. It's just my mind playing tricks on me_. Simmons looked at the pink one who looked at the others and pointed his finger back at Simmons. "People are still getting hurt because of you, aren't they?"

"Because of me?"

"What about Sister?" asked Donut as he pointed out the door. "She is out there unconscious on a bed, and unprotected from danger should it come knocking. What about me? I will never again get to breath the fresh morning air like you can, never get to make the food I enjoy making, or spending time with friends."

 _Just how long will my guilt haunt me?_ Simmons squeezed shut his eyes as he slowly raised his arms to his ears. Suddenly he felt a heavy sensation on his arms. It was a pain inducing grip. The red leader met him on an eye level, face to face. "Are you going to run away from this as well? Hmph, coward, I was wrong to train you to be a leader. You should have just stayed a sheep to blindly follow others."

"No, you are wrong Sarge!"

"Then why am I dead?!"

"That's because of Grif!"

"Don't try to peddle your mistakes off onto others. If you maintained proper control of the situations and the troops, none of this would have happened. Your lack of leadership and demand for respect from others caused this to start in the first place. If you were strong, Grif would have respected you enough to follow your judgement. He would have understood to be quiet. But because you silently watched the events unfold, I was killed, and then you have the gall to run away from your mistakes?!"

Simmons shook his head violently as he pushed the red leader off of him. The old man fell to the ground with a large thud and Lopez went to his aid. The Spanish robot glared up, almost as if holding back his murderous rage. Simmons looked at everyone with great doubt. "You are not real, none of you are real. Sarge would never talk to me like that!"

"And what if he wanted to all this time?" asked the red leader being helped up by Lopez. Simmons' eyes shot wide open as his breath froze in time. He slowly clasped his head and recalled all the times he had made a mistake, but Sarge brushed it off as something to improve on for the next time. But what if in reality, Sarge thought of reprimanding him in a more violent manner but held himself back everytime? Simmons began to feel his breaths shorten as his gasps deepened. He reached for the flask and chugged what was left of the booze. As he finished and took in a deep breath, his guilty representations were gone. Simmons felt the flask slip out of his hand as he slowly slipped down to the ground. "I'm so fucked up…"

* * *

Near the entrance, in the openness of the afternoon breeze stood the BGC members, except for Simmons who covered the entertainment areas of the base one last time. He shook the flask and felt a little relief at its nearly full glory. _Why do I feel this relief?_ He heard the thunder in the clear skies and could only assume one thing. The medical sign painted Pelican descended, and with it came the sensual noises of Muffins, much to the disturbance of the others. As the ship landed with a gentle bump, the pilot walked out shaking his waist from one side to the next. He looked at their dead comrade and felt a well of tears shoot out. "I'm so sorry for your loss my sexy people. But fear not, Muffins shall always be here for you!"

He then took a look at Grif's injured sister and quickly moved on. _Take that you hussy, now all the sexy men shall be mine, mine I say, mwhahaha!_ He watched the maroon soldier quickly stumble his way towards them as Grif asked with slight curiosity, but mostly frustration. "Where were you this whole time when we needed help carrying them out?"

"Ah, sorry," the maroon one lightly bowed his head as he noticed the concerned gaze from Doc. Muffins lifted Iowa's stretcher from one side as Caboose did from the other. "Well now, no time to waste my beauties. We must air lift these people out of here and into the poetically cold embrace of space ja!"

"Space, why space?" asked Tucker as he helped Grif with his sister. Mike balanced the stretcher from the side and saw the maroon one standing still. "Hey, we can use some help here you know."

Simmons looked at the two bodies being boarded as he let out a frustrated sigh. Mike raised an eyebrow in concern as he pointed it out to Tucker. "Do you think our leader is going to be okay?"

"Well, right now I guess Grif is the leader," Tucker corrected as he referred to their last assault. Grif quickly though denied the claims. "Fake news, I don't support that man's claims."

"What, you don't want to do it anymore?" inquired the aqua one as he was more than ready to step into those shoes. "I can use more moments to shine around here if you would like."

"No one's switching leaders," Simmons pointed out as he made Grif the leader as a standing order. The orange one felt a nerve pop up on his forehead as he almost went on a tirade. "Just get us the hell out of here Muffins."

"Sorry my spunky Grif," Muffins spoke sending an invisible kiss only for it to be swatted away. His eyes opened wide and his mouth fell open in dejection. The orange one waited for an explanation as did the others. He began tapping his foot without stop. "Well, why can't you?"

"Orders from the higher ups," explained the German pilot. "I'm only to evacuate the injured or the disabled from this planet now."

"Great, what the fuck do we do now then?" asked Grif as he looked at the others for ideas. The silence did more to steal his confidence than to help him remain calm and indifferent. Muffins cleared his throat and pointed in the direction to his right. "A little bird told me that there is an evacuation point to the right of here for uninjured soldiers."

"Oh, and who would this little bird be?" inquired the maroon one as he gripped his gun rather tightly at the sudden news. Muffins looked up and smiled as he shook his shoulders. "Don't really know."

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine," noted Mike as he calibrated their GPS for the suggested direction. "But you best not be lying."

"Trust us Mike," Tucker began while pointing back to the German man. "If there is one thing this guy is terrible at, it's lying. He wouldn't be able to do it even to save his own life."

"But I will do it if you decide to offer me a hundred gay virgin men."

"That's an oddly specific number," Doc pondered out loud with Muffins taking pride in the theoretical demand. The purple man raised a rocket launcher as a maniacal laughter escaped his sealed lips. "Let us go and raise hell on our enemies you fools!"

"No can do," Muffins chirped as he stopped O'Malley in his tracks. "All medics and doctors who are not on emergency duties in their hospitals are ordered to help with the evacuation."

"And here I was, hoping to finally see some good action," pondered O'Malley as he grew bored of the outcome and switched back. "Looks like this is where we part ways for now guys."

"Make sure to take good care of them Doc," spoke Tucker as he eyed the two one last time. The purple medic nodded his head and swore on his life as a medic. "I will make sure they are all kept safe. Muffins and I will also retrieve Donut and Sarge on our ship."

Muffins took large strides back into the Pelican as Doc followed. He looked back one last time at Simmons and motioned for him to come closer. "Remember Simmons, negative emotions like loneliness, envy, and guilt have an important role to play in a happy life; they're big, flashing signs that something needs to change."

"Are you okay?" the maroon one questioned in response as his tone showed great concern. Doc rubbed the top of his helmet, confused at the commotion. "I'm fine, just remember my words."

The bay doors finally closed and the ship lifted off with a large gust of air from the bottom spreading the dust on the ground. The remaining BGC looked at the disappearing ship into the skies and studied their maps. Caboose looked in the way they needed to go. "So we just go that way, and when we get to our spot, we will find lots of candy there?"

"Um, sure," Tucker began leading the march with Grif quickly taking over. The orange one peeked back to see the scattered line of soldiers and asked. "Everyone has the supplies we need?"

"Well, as long as your fat arse doesn't eat it all in one day," joked Tucker with a wide grin only to see Grif's middle finger of piss off. "You know what Tucker? If we ever come across some aliens that eat humans, I know who I'm throwing into their arms first."

Simmons looked behind him, over his shoulder as he felt a piercing gaze. He was the last in the line, hence there should not have been anyone there, and yet it felt like that was not the case. There was a heavy, bearing sensation on his body. He felt as though he was being watched. He peered over his own shoulder and saw nothing. _Am I really that paranoid now?_ He trudged onwards with the rest as their long march began into an uncertain territory.

* * *

 **A/N: What do you think will happen now considering how there is no big bad baddie to fight anymore?**

 **I should make a special note here. Some of the inspiration for the story will now come from the film "Dunkirk" by Christopher Nolan in regards to the events to come.**

 **What did you think of the chapter?**

 **Constructive feedback is appreciated!**

 **Thank you for taking the time to read, hopefully review and for your continued support!**

 **~ Monty**


	23. Desperation

**Chapter 22: Desperation**

The sun blazed down onto the barren wasteland of a battlefield. The lands around the marching group were quiet, for now. The BGC studied their surroundings intently as they all huffed and puffed underneath their helmets. Their cooling systems could only do so much, but when faced with intense heat such as this, one strong enough to dry a patch of grass within a matter of minutes, they could not rely on their suits. Simmons at the very back continued to peer over his shoulders from time to time, much to the suspicion of the others as they quickly caught onto this new habit. At the front, Grif with fast speed held his hand up. It was a sign for a break. Tucker and Mike opted to keep an eye out as the orange one trudged to the back where Simmons lied onto the ground. Both men out of breath lied next to one another, all the while having to squint their eyes to keep the sun's glare out. Grif turned his head towards the maroon soldier as he swallowed a bit of his saliva to try and keep himself hydrated. "W- What's going on man, why are you so distracted?"

"Hmm?"

"You keep on looking over your shoulders," Grif slowly sat up as he reached for his water bottle, only to find it two thirds empty. He sighed in reluctance and with slight grief. _I will need to conserve you now, won't I?_ And so he stored the bottle back into his pouch. "It's starting to worry me that there might really be someone trailing us or something."

"Heh, you getting worried over something like that?" Simmons looked back up towards the sky as he released a deep breath. "Now I definitely know that this war has fucked us up in more ways than one."

"I'm being serious," Grif retorted as did Simmons. "So was I."

Ever so gently, Simmons closed his eyes shut and felt a breeze starting to pick up. Tucker stretched his arms at the gust as he chatted with Caboose to help keep the dark blue soldier from falling into depression. Simmons gently reached into his back pouch and firmly gripped his prized flask. Grif gave a look of distaste as he turned his head away. "Drinking on vacation is all well and good, but right now, is it really the time?"

"If not now, then when?" Simmons asked as he wiped his mouth clean from the one quick chug he took. Grif watched the maroon one stumble up onto his feet. "Just don't get drunk, I don't need anyone else's death on my conscience."

"All about you," Simmons smirked underneath the visor as he looked up towards the sky with his posture completely slouched. "When will it be about the others with you Grif?"

"Fuck off. I don't need you on my case."

Tucker looked up from his grieving blue friend to the two reds and gave a sigh of slight frustration. He shook his head as he stood up to stretch his back. _The heat is getting to us all now_. Church popped up by his side and delivered new information they had just discovered. "There is an allied base near of our spot. It shouldn't be too much of a walk to there. There might even be some supplies we can scavenge."

"Good, because I'm starving," Grif quipped as he motioned for all to stand with him. Church pointed out the direction, and the rest began marching. Tucker guided Caboose along anytime he would find him straying. Mike endeavored to help whenever he could, especially with keeping an eye on Simmons. Grif looked ahead and could make out a blurry structure. There was no smoke rising up into the air. _Lucky_ , thought Grif as he rubbed his hands together. "I can already feel the grub in my stomach."

"Great, more for us then," Tucker smirked as he again corrected Caboose's path. Grif smiled rather crookedly as he did his best to hold back the middle finger of piss off. "You are a real comedian Tucker, maybe you should think about actually becoming one."

"If only," Tucker looked back at Caboose. "Keeping up alright Caboose?"

No response. The dark blue soldier simply continued to trudge on. Mike pointed to the structure as the group walked with heavy and fatigued footsteps, almost as if carrying something heavy. "We are close now."

Everyone looked up in hope to find that the base was not too far off now. Grif stopped midway in front of the others as he leaned down onto his thighs. With heavy breaths, he sounded like a man in need of a respirator. Simmons gently kicked his friend from the back, but there was enough strength to knock him down to the ground. Simmons crossed his arms as he towered over their leader. "What was that rest you took before for then?"

"I need a lot of rest okay?!" Grif moaned as he slowly picked himself up. "Plus, I haven't been getting any naps in lately thanks to this shitty planet."

Tucker and Mike quickly stood by Grif's side, and each took one arm around the base of their necks. The orange one looked at them both in confusion. _What are you up to?_ He suddenly felt his whole body become heavier as it was being downed by gravity, as he was being pulled up by the two men. Mike looked at Tucker who nodded his head. Mike turned his head to Simmons and motioned for him to follow. "This way, we don't need to stop this way, we can keep on going. Come on, final stretch."

"Won't you just get tired more quickly that way yourselves?" Simmons asked as he could already see a slight limp in Tucker's walk. Tucker gave a thumb up. "We will be fine. We are both a couple of badass fighters after all. Plus, chicks dig badass men, right?"

"You are asking me this because?" Simmons tilted his head in confusion as Tucker quickly agreed. "Right, why would I even ask you when you freeze up around women almost all the time?"

"Thanks for the support Tucker," Simmons replied very sarcastically as his expression went grim. Tucker gave a thumb up yet again and spoke. "No problem, anytime!"

A few more minutes later, the group arrived at the door steps to the base. The large entrance way left an eerie feeling in their bodies. They could all tell from the silence, and the slightly burned smell, that this base was like the others. _So there is no one here as well, abandoned like the others_. Grif finally felt some strength return as he stood on his own two feet. He pushed himself off of his comrades and looked at the many buildings with growing irritation. "Alright, you guys know the drill. Let's go check out these buildings."

* * *

Simmons entered one to find all the electricity turned off. _Great_ , he took one quick chug from his flask and reached for the nearest power generator. _No backup power, looks like it's the old way it is then_. With a strong pull, he used the cord to activate the power. _Surprising how the wisdom from those a century ago still manages to aid and amaze us to this day_. A green light lit up on one of the panels as the gears began to turn about. The hull of the generator vibrated and shook until it screamed a loud, deep and an industrial noise. The lights around him slowly came to life and illuminated the darkness into the various corners of the room. Over the radio he heard cheers for the light, and so returned to his previous building where he felt more welcomed now. All around the room, it was a mess. _Someone wanted to get out of here in a hurry_. Simmons walked around to see all the books off the bookshelf missing, the hard drives from the computers destroyed and various cases of large glass tubes lying dormant. _What happened here?_

* * *

Darkness, it consumed all and left nothing visible to the human eye. The darkness that sat within a box, waited patiently for the day when someone would open the doors once more. The orange soldier walked around, and a fridge came into his view. _This must be the kitchen for the whole base then, hoh, lucky me. Time to dig in!_ He reached for the handle gently pulled onto the door. The darkness inside the box was no more, its wish was granted as the orange one peered inside and saw some items still fresh. Most however were covered in the foul stench of growing mold upon most organic items. Grif reached inside to take hold of some tomatoes, still looking somewhat normal, and took a hearty bite out of it. As soon as the taste touched his tongue, his face squeezed up and his eyes squirmed. _Yuck, raw tomato, why you taste so bad? I wonder if there is any canned food around here still_.

* * *

Tucker watched Caboose walk about without a goal in mind. The dark blue soldier simply walked, putting one foot in front of the other, and continued in this loop. Tucker looked to his side, where his powdery blue friend formed. "Church, anything from Delta yet as to how we could cheer him up faster?"

"Nadda," Church looked towards Caboose as Delta stood by him. "Surprisingly, he is able to keep this sort of thing quiet in his own head really well. Sometimes makes me think, since when did he have such mental fortitude? Motherfucker, badass."

"What's gotten into you?"

"Huh, nothing. Why do you ask?"

"You seem to be doting on him," Tucker replied to which Church countered. "So do you."

"Touché," Tucker mused as he saw Caboose fall below ground. Eyes widened in worry, he used his jets to jump over to the position and noticed a deep crater into the ground. "Caboose, are you okay?!"

A hand burst out of the ground and sent instant shivers down Tucker's spine as well as Church. The latter screamed like a girl, only to later realize the widespread grin on Tucker's face. "That never happened, got it Tucker?"

"Hey guys, I have something great to tell you," Tucker began shouting as he quickly saw his blue friend slowly turn red. "Tucker, if you say anything about this to anyone, I'm fucking nuking your porn collection. I could do with some more space in here after all."

"I did not see anything!" the aqua one exclaimed with a salute. Church slowly changed back to the color blue. "Good."

Caboose dug himself out, simply got up on his feet and continued to walk. Both the fragment and the aqua soldier looked at him in shock, as if none of what transpired fazed him in the slightest. Delta again appeared besides Caboose as he attempted to coerce his host into talking. "Caboose, how about we play a game?"

No response. Delta looked at the shadow of his host and asked another question. "I spy with my little eye, something green, what is it?"

No response. The soldier simply continued to march onwards.

* * *

Simmons peeled through the mountain of destroyed hard disks in the hopes that he may see a glimmer of some payoff to all his hard work. Yet to his mind, that hope was quickly leaving him behind as his pace failed to keep up. He pushed past yet another pile of electronics until one flashed past his eyes. The casing was fine, no liquid damage, the ports were still intact, and it seemed as though hope had returned to his side. Simmons gently reached down to grab a hold of the seemingly healthy hard drive. He looked around for the computer and ran along with a random picking of cables in one hand. He turned on the device, the operating system was intact, and in fact surprisingly there were no corrupted sectors to the OS. _They must have abandoned this base a month ago or so at the latest_. He studied the disrepair on the machine. Surprisingly it was kept in top shape. To his surprise, he also found the login username of the last user to use the computer. But to his shock, the computer referred to the user first as doctor. _Was this a medical base or a research facility?_ With the help of Eta, he managed to override the security access on the computer and began fiddling with various cables with great interest. _There must be one here, come on, I'm so close now_.

He eyed the ends of the cables very meticulously and finally found a connection. _Bingo!_ Overjoyed, he quickly setup the hard drive and connected it to the computer while the power still lasted. As the drive loaded, Simmons opened a command prompt and directed himself to the location of the drive. His eyes browsed the file names intently. "These guys have shitty security. Eta was able to get in within a matter of nanoseconds."

One name in particular caught his name, "Project Harbinger". Simmons inched closer to the screen as he saw the various recorded data, images, text reports, video clips, everything it had to offer for his mortal eyes. He felt his whole body shudder, frozen from fear and disgust. He nearly fell back as he re-balanced himself with the help of the computer unit. _What is this?!_

In the image that was before his eyes, slowly burning into his nightmares, he witnessed humans, scientists watching a struggling enemy Sangheili. The alien was strapped down to what Simmons could see only to be a steel operating table. One of the researchers broke off their stare as they reached for something behind them. The loud, screeching sound was as fearful to Simmons' ears as it was to the Sangheili's. The enemy screamed in fear all the while shaking his head, no doubt begging for them to stop in its foreign language. As soon as the others removed the armor, the one with an electric saw began to cut through the flesh of their enemy, and be bathed in its tar like blood. The screams echoed throughout the room and the speakers, and yet none of them flinched at the agony. Simmons placed his hand over his mouth piece. _Even if they are our enemy, this is just sick_. Just as the bone cage was stretched apart by a locking apparatus, the scientists peered into the innards and found it most fascinating as one prompted to narrate their interest to the camera.

Another researcher held a scalpel into the rib cage and ran it through the various nerves. Simmons looked away at the mass of object that was pulled out. It pulsated, it was slow, dying and blood dripped out from two spots as it emptied of any stored blood. The scientists all boasted of their accomplishment together. _Why, why do you all seem so happy when you just tortured an enemy to death? Would it not have been more humane to kill it first and then carry out these experiments?!_

"Humans are cruel," spoke a familiar voice. Simmons turned in surprise only to find nothing. _That voice, Sarge? No, you are not him_. Simmons turned back and closed shut his eyes, continuously telling himself to focus on happier thoughts. Yet again, as if a persistent nightmare, he spoke. "You are cruel, to reject me, the man you looked up to once. You are no different than those in the video. You are just as guilty of murder as them, especially one of your own comrades."

"No, you are wrong," Simmons looked up behind him as he threw a stray punch into the air. "I'm guilty, but not for killing my own comrades!"

His face turned to ice as soon as he saw no one there yet again. This time, he knew for sure of this type of sensation. This heavy pounding in his chest as his mind struggled within itself. He turned back towards the screen to find the researchers cleaning up as the organs laid bare. Sarge again spoke. "Where are you looking at?"

Simmons instantly turned to come face to face with his past mentor, just a few inches away from his face. Simmons froze as if seeing a ghost. He stumbled back onto the computer, tipping it over and destroying it in the process. _Dammit_ , he looked at the hard drive that was now buried beneath the various components. Sarge walked around the maroon soldier, studying him head to toe as Simmons took another glug of his whiskey. "Trying to keep us away with that?"

Simmons remained quiet as he closed shut his eyes, not wishing to be judged by his own mind. Sarge turned to see Simmons' other victims step in and surround him completely. Donut leaned in closer, next to his ear and whispered. "Stop running away you coward, look at us, look at me!"

The room dimmed as darkness came back from its corners to cover every steel plate of the room. Simmons opened his eyes as he stared upwards. The generator could no longer be heard. But his mental assailants were still there with him, waiting, staring, and exuding malice he wished to never know of. A glow covered his helmet as the figures stared at him with their visors shining brightly. Their forms twisted and cracked from their normal armors into something unknown, something sinister as a chill settled about in the air. Simmons looked for a way out, as he pushed past some of them, a strong grip on his arm held him from running any further. He looked back to find a large, claw like hand holding and impeding any notions of progress he might have had. "Let me go!"

"Simmons," the voices of his dead teammates which once seemed normal, now growled with ferocity, and a deep tone that left his heart standing still. It was as if the devil itself spoke to him. "Come join us in the afterlife, we only wish to be together with you."

"That's right," spoke another as he blocked Simmons' path. "The guilty like you shouldn't live, instead come join us."

The demonic figures approached. _No, stay away from me_. Simmons looked at the one still holding him. He reached for the knife in his person and slashed at the hand. It held no effect, instead then he slashed at the one ahead, one that took pleasure in instilling fear in its approach. There were no effects from Simmons' attacks. _I don't want to die!_

He felt the grip around his helmet as one proceeded to push him from the back. _Eta, help me, activate the helmet lights!_ Suddenly, the darkness was illuminated away and Simmons fell to the ground. He looked around to find no such demonic figures he saw of before. Eyes widened, he lied down on his back against the cold floor. He took in deep, exasperated breaths as he gritted his teeth in absolute frustration. "I'm going fucking insane, god dammit."

* * *

Mike stood in the vehicle hangers with his head low in disappointment. _They are so going to be pissed off when they see this_. He looked out to the blazing heat and took a seat on one of the steps. _But they will find out sooner or later_. He reached for his in-built helmet radio. "Hey guys, can you all gather here at the vehicle hanger?"

"Why, did you manage to find us a ride?" asked Tucker, more excited than he wanted to let on. Mike looked up to the garage and quickly cleared his thoughts. "Just meet up here in five minutes."

The BGC met up outside as they walked beside one another under the heat. Tucker looked at the huge bag Grif carried. "So, you managed to find us some good stuff?"

"The best in town," Grif commented as he took out a can. "I got some canned beans, canned fish, canned fruits, canned donkey balls, canned worms, and much more."

"You can keep the donkey balls and the worms, I'm sure they will feel good together, bow-chika-bow-wow! I will take the beans and fish though."

"Meet me in the gladiator ring," Grif announced to all. "I will gladly fight you for it!"

Tucker looked to his left and found Simmons to be uncharacteristically quiet, by now he would have made a comment saying how stupid they were, or that they need to quit the chatter. "Are you okay Simmons?"

"Yeah," he absent mindedly answered as they finally reached their destination. Tucker took one look inside and immediately felt his neck loose all motivation to support his head. He looked down while releasing a deep, deep breath. Grif felt the bag of food slip out of his hand and stomped his way outside for a much needed release. "Fuuuuuccccckkkk!"

"Just our luck, as usual," Simmons groaned as he retreated to one of the steps by where Mike sat before. The ODST soldier shook his shoulders. "Sorry to be the bearer of bad news guys."

"At this point, we should really be used to it," Tucker mentioned doing his best to keep any blame from falling on Mike. Simmons looked up at the aqua soldier with an irritated expression. "But it still hurts, what the fuck are we supposed to do now?"

"Keep on going our merry way I suppose," Mike answered only to receive a less than pleased stare. Grif finally stepped back in after his long, shouting session. Tucker crossed his arms as he tilted his head to the right in curiosity. "Feel better?"

"Yes," Grif took one look around the garage and lowered his head. "God dammit, now I feel like shouting again."

"Great, let's take what we can and move out," spoke Tucker as he gathered the food supplies as well as water they had collected, with the help of Mike, he split them out into various bags, one for each soldier. "Remember, these are your rations, make them last until we come across the next base."

"And hopefully to our destination," Mike pondered as Grif nodded his head. "That would be the fucking day."

The orange one looked back outside and down to his belly. _At this rate, I'm going to lose the fat from just walking in this heat_. The rest walked past him after picking up their rations. Grif picked his up and all headed for the main gates. Tucker summoned his blue powdery friend. "Church, which direction do we go in?"

"That way," spoke their AI friend. Tucker asked for Delta who situated himself beside Church. "Delta, keep an eye on Caboose for us will you? If anything or any worries come, let us know."

"Understood."

"Thanks," the aqua one answered as he followed behind Grif. Mike eyed Simmons from the side of his eye and noticed the slight jitteriness in the maroon one's gestures. _It's gotten worse_. He looked back ahead and sighed. _It's gotten worse for all of us truth be told_. Although, as if their destination called out to them from afar, their feet began to march. They marched onwards towards the horizon.

* * *

 **A/N: This chapter should help give you an idea of the type of atmosphere the story will take on now.**

 **I hope you are enjoying the development with Simmons in this story. Constructive feedback is welcomed!**

 **I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I hope to catch you all in the next chapter!**

 **~ Monty**


	24. Survival

**Chapter 23: Survival**

Droplets of water splashed off their armor. The dark clouds hanging above their heads served to wet the lands and give it some semblance of life. The thunder above roared proudly to the heart pound of the tiny land creatures. In front of the BGC, there was an active battlefield. A place where the lands shook, the creatures cried and there was no joy to be found. Mud flew into the air, battle hardened screams roared to instill confidence in their own, and hopes of fear in their enemies. The humans ran like gladiators in a death ring towards their opponents. Amidst the scuffle were also the colors of red and blue. Simmons looked at the scene with contempt. _Why, why continue fighting this meaningless war?_

Tucker looked at both sides with pity for the Sangheilis reminded him of Junior, and his growing sadness of the rift between humans and the Sangheili because of the extremists and this war. Caboose looked at the fighting with his eyes widened as the crew moved stealthily from the trenches. He held strongly onto his aqua friend and pulled him along. "Tucker, we have to help them!"

As Caboose shook him to take action, the others simply looked away at the desperation they have come to expect now from the innocent, yet afflicted one. Tucker firmly gripped Caboose's arm and gently pushed him back. He looked back towards the direction of their destination and continued walking. Caboose ran in front of the group with heavy, yet fast footsteps. "But, why?!"

Mike quickly moved to rest a hand on Caboose's mouthpiece. "Keep it down. Otherwise, any nearby enemy can hear us."

Just as immediately Mike had moved, he felt his body numb. He nearly fell from the loss of balance before Tucker straightened him. "Caboose, we have been through this many times already. No matter what, the answer won't change. We can't help them, they are on their own."

"Why?"

Tucker looked behind him to the exhausted reds and studied their muddy surroundings. He watched water pour in like a little river flowing down a mountain from both sides of the trench. "We don't have the resources to. We have to move now. This trench might end up collapsing thanks to all this water."

"Ugh, please," Grif looked up at the sky with the shake of a most vengeful fist. "Why are we even fucking here? Someone just find me a warm and comfy bed already!"

Simmons gently held onto his orange friend and acted as his support. "Just keep on walking to the evacuation point, and then you can have all the warm beds you want once we are back in Blood Gulch."

"Quit with the talking," Tucker eyed the reds once more, though this time stricter. "We don't want to spend any more energy than necessary."

Caboose looked again towards the land of suffering as on both sides, the soldiers fought not just bravely, but fearfully. Amidst the swings, woven with their utmost efforts, many fell, cried, screamed for help and were even abandoned by their own so that those could save themselves. To the commanders of the battlefield, this was a game of numbers. As long as their casualties did not exceed the acceptable parameters, they did little to care. Some went as far as to push those in front of them to the back, towards the enemy's grasp so that they could meet a bloody end. Even the reds and blues, some of whom the BGC could swear they recognized fell victim to this mentality. But war, war has a way of ingraining this desperation.

Caboose felt his heart rush, Delta noticed the change. Tucker stepped forward to block the dark blue one's view. Alas it was useless for he was easily forced away. Caboose's strength was a gift, but this one time it felt like a curse to the others. Caboose rested one hand on top of the trench, and planted one foot deep into the wall. "I have to, I need to help. I don't want to see more things happen like to Iowa."

Mike jumped for one leg, while Grif for the other. Both men felt extremely exhausted as their stomachs growled at the spent energy. Simmons reached for one arm while Tucker for the other. The aqua one did his best to reason, but it seemed as though that his words fell on deaf ears. "Caboose, just listen for one second, would you? Come on, don't do this!"

Even with all his might, Caboose too felt the effects of their hunger, and fatigue. Just as he began to pull himself up, his body gave away and he slipped down with the mud. Atop the others, he slowly felt his heart sink, deeper into a cloudy haze, one of which he foresaw no path out from as of now. Simmons and Grif looked up at the water pellets that hit their visors in silence. The two of them got up, gently sliding Caboose's body off of them. Grif looked out at the fighting as Simmons helped the others up. "It sucks, it really fucking sucks, I know. I want to help to Caboose."

"As do I," Simmons added. Tucker and Mike gently rested an arm around Caboose's back and gently reassured. "So do we."

"But," Simmons continued leaving the rest to simply watch helplessly. "But we can't, not as we are. We too, just like them are soldiers on a bloody field. We are just like them, desperate, and deeply so."

A nearby explosion splashed some mud their way, Tucker found his once aqua armor now covered in the dark brown concoction. He looked down to find almost all of his armor covered in the filth. Grif felt his legs give way, as his stomach grumbled even louder. He felt his food pouch. _No, I need to conserve it_. He looked up towards the fighting and felt his heart ache. "I want to help, but if we do, then we will get dragged into the fighting."

Tucker too felt his pouch and found the same situation as with Mike. "Is everyone's ration running low?"

"Seems so," Mike whispered as he felt his dry throat once again begin to irritate. "Why do we even go on?"

Tucker stood up on all fours as he used the slippery wall for support. He fumbled towards Mike and fell down by his side. "We go on hoping for something better…don't we?"

"But when is that something better going to come?"

"Beats me," Tucker admitted as the others saw the hopelessness. Simmons collected himself together, as he swallowed his own saliva, now out of whiskey, in order to keep hydrated, or at least give himself that illusion. "We need to be smart about what we do, what we get involved with and how we spend our energy. In the week we have travelled, we have yet to come across another base."

"If only the fragments were able to help," Grif pondered only to understand that even they had their limitations, and having been constantly put into situations of survival left them fatigued, and in need of rest. Both Mike and Tucker helped Caboose up, and ensured a firm grip on him to continue their merry way. They blurred out all the fighting, the explosions and the screams only to keep their destination in mind. They trudged onwards, on towards the unknown, but to what they hoped to be their end goal.

* * *

A few days later, what seemed once lost came to them in the blink of an eye again. In the distance, yet not so far, they saw it, they finally saw hope return once more. Reaching towards the sky was what looked like a large, spherical launch chamber. It was large enough to house multiple ships. The BGC soon rejoiced as they saw an evacuation ship escape the circular confines. The trail of smoke left behind into the great beyond past the clouds left them all speechless. It was a moment of happiness. Immeasurable joy took their hearts and wrapped it in its warmth. They lost strength in their body as their stomachs yet again growl to demand food. But this demand was quickly silenced by the empowerment they all felt.

Grif felt his knees give away as did the others. As he rested on his knees and looked up at the evacuees flying out of this damned world, he could not help but ponder the reality in front of him. "Simmons, I'm not hallucinating, am I?"

"Unless we both are hallucinating," the maroon one stared at the large chamber with an outstretched smile. "I would say we fucking made it."

"It's too soon to say that," Mike corrected only to receive glares in response. He raised his arms in the air for self-defense. "Hey, I'm only saying that we should save that relieved mood for when we get on one of those ships, and get off this world."

"We need to keep on moving," Tucker suggested as he helped pick them up one by one. Slowly, but surely they approached the general area of the evacuation. The long lines, immense number of soldiers, all waiting to go home left them baffled. Just like them, many lied on the ground, curled up like a broken mess, no doubt starved and weakened. The BGC looked at the shortest line they could find without having to walk another mile and decided to plant themselves firmly into their spots. Grif looked up at the sky, and reached for his water bottle. He shook it lightly to hear the very little liquid splash about. He reached into his other pouch where some bread rested, while it was a little stale, it was still edible.

The rest proceeded to do the same, even Mike, who felt reluctance, decided to let go and engage in this moment. Slowly, they all felt their stomachs complain less and less. Their minds were somewhat at ease. Grif finished the last of his bread as he let out a relieved sigh. "First thing I do when we get back home is go hibernate for at least two months."

"Sleeping is all you can think about?" asked Tucker as he pondered the fates of their injured comrades. "First thing I want to do is make sure Donut and Sister are safe."

"Obviously I want to do that to," Grif shot back as he closed shut his eyes to help control the frustration. Simmons held out Sarge's dog tags as he gently rubbed his fingers against the engraved name. "We will also need to create graves for Sarge, Lopez and…Iowa."

Simmons eyed the dark blue soldier who silently stared up at the sky. Only he remained standing. He looked at his friends, unfazed by the mention of the name. Simmons looked down at his own rations, a little relieved, but at the same time very worried. _I hope you are not repressing your feelings_ Caboose. Simmons took a deep bite of his canned fish and complimented that with some bread. The taste of the two ingredients worked to mixed well together. Tucker looked up at Mike who sat with hopeful eyes at the slow moving lines. "What are you going to do when you get outta here?"

Mike slowly turned to face the aqua soldier and shook his shoulders. "Not really sure. First thing I should make sure of I suppose is that I try and smooth things over with the inevitable court martial. I imagine, the rest of you will need to do the same."

"Fuck that," Grif commented as he closed shut his eyes for a small nap. Simmons agreed. "I don't think a court martial is the first thing on our minds considering the shit we went through."

"Fair enough," Mike answered as he gently crossed his arms and looked back to the aqua soldier. "But I will need to, if I hope to be able to work after this, I need to get a clean record. No one likes a dishonorable discharge. Then, I might go on to try and find work back on Earth."

"Depending on what type of work you are looking for, and where you are looking, I may be able to recommend a place," Tucker replied thinking of their retired family. Mike nodded in response with a smile. "That would be cool, I would appreciate that."

* * *

Dust arose from the ground in an explosive manner as smoke escaped one of the large arch shaped doors. For miles, it was only smoke and dust as every soldier outside took cover on the ground against the trembling, and ensured their suits were air tight. From the center of the evacuation base, a ship escaped the confines into the free sky. With each passing second, the soldiers aboard the ship rejoiced, cheered, and waved down to those still awaiting evacuation. It was their way of letting others know that their turn will come soon as well. As hope grew even more, their eyes turned up to a bright shining light that rained down from the stratosphere. Almost as if unseen, within an instant, the ship of hope was obliterated and all those aboard, killed.

"What the hell?!" the soldiers shouted in growing confusion as their eyes widened with fear. The very clouds dissipated under the forceful descent of a large battle cruiser. The enemy was here to rain down its punishment for those in this war. Aboard the cruiser sat Ful's and Shexa's father. He stared down at the cowering soldiers and took notice of the reds and blues in particular he had set his children to hunt on. "Kill them, kill them all."

What was once seen before as a bright shining light was now clear as day, it was plasma energy. Enemy's fire rained down on the land as the base sounded alarms. Within seconds, the base was decimated as the first target, and then came the slaughter of the humans. The BGC took cover upon Grif's orders as they spread out and jumped belly flat onto the ground. Their hearts beat to the point it felt their chests could no longer contain it. Explosions went off all around them, the land shook with great impact, and the BGC could feel their bodies sink little by little for every impact near them, slowly they were falling into a crater. Simmons looked up at the cruiser and felt his lips shiver at the thought of standing face to face with it. His whole body shook from the noises, the flying rocks and the sting of fear as it did with everyone else. _Stop it, please_ , Simmons begged within his thoughts as he noticed the ship moving onto yet another quadrant of soldiers. After the bombardment eased, and the bodies lied still to elude the enemy of their status, the ship left towards another battlefield, no doubt to state their superiority once more.

Drained of all hope, the BGC looked up only to find many choose a quicker way off the planet. Fast hands reached for the lethal weapon on their sides, and pulled the trigger. One shot per soldier, one body per bullet. Slowly, the BGC stood up on their knees as they looked at the bodies, visible from the parting dust. Grif looked everywhere with a shortness of breath, Tucker felt the same sensation as his orange friend. Those who stood up were the ones to carry on the struggle, and to carry on this nightmarish sight with them for the rest of their life. But now, even the BGC felt too tired to do anything. Even they felt the thirst of hope from continued frustration and misery. One by one, they fell on their backs saves for Mike, who stood still looking up at the sky, as if he still held on to some foolish notion of hope.

Their energy was now completely drained, and hunger returned with a dry throat. Simmons looked up with his head resting against a hard rock. Small tears in his eyes formed at the thoughts that rushed in his mind, at the possibilities he saw if he had made different decisions. Grif felt the same as Simmons as the two men remained isolated in their own thoughts. The maroon one felt the pistol by his side as he gently smothered it in ponder. _Would my death be a better outcome for everyone after all the damage I have caused? There is nothing I can do to even begin to repair that damage. I failed to properly serve as a leader, to save my friends from harm's way and I failed to save the one man I sought after…would death not suit me better then?_

To Mike however, there was no choice to be made. As his eyes stared up at the clear skies, one that brought down one of the worst heat he has suffered, far worse than Earth, he slowly reached for the weapon to his side. Tucker stared helplessly as he gathered the strength to at least push himself up on all fours. "Don't…"

"What is the point in me living?"

"So you will take the easy way out like the others?"

"It's an option," Mike turned his gaze away from the aqua soldier, not out of guilt or shame, but out of utter defeat. Tucker forced his body up against the will of the planet's gravity. He moved to gently hold Mike's knee, a gesture even his pride would not have allowed in the past. "Please, if you do that, it would demoralize the rest of us. It would make us even wonder more so as to why we are still alive. We would feel the pain from the loss."

 _The loss?_ Mike pondered as he looked down and around to his comrades. He undid his helmet and let it drop by his side with a small grin painted on his face. "To think that you would say that to me after all the shit I first put you through, and then more once I apologized."

"What can I say?" Tucker grinned himself as he shook his shoulders. "You grew on me I guess."

"Tucker, why do you want to go on living, why do you want me to go on living?"

The aqua one felt his hand slip from Mike's knee as his strength faded further. He sat down on his butt with a deep breath. The soldier looked up to his friend and simply answered. "I don't know, it's hard to put it into words. You know, hard like my win-wang, bow-chika-bow-wow!"

Mike looked at the soldier, unimpressed with the timing as Tucker raised his hands, clearly burdened by the stare. "Okay, bad joke, it was the wrong time for it. But what I said before about feeling the pain from the loss was true. Giving up is easy when you have a way out, but to keep on going, it requires much effort. Still, to succeed at that means we can reap many rewards, mainly survival so that we can go on to do different things with our lives. Think about it, we would be sad, I'm sure that if your buddies from your squad knew you were going to do this, they would probably be sad as well. Your brother wouldn't probably be too happy about this either."

 _Hope_ , the others pondered as their eyes slowly closed from the fatigue. _There is no such thing_. Mike slowly fell onto his butt beside Tucker. His grip now lost on his gun and a shortness of breath afflicted his body. "They probably wouldn't like that, but how do you even find the strength to keep on moving forward?"

"You just gotta keep on believing that something better is out there beyond this planet," Tucker however followed up with a laugh. "But I can't say that for certain right now as my mind and body feel like shit. Not gonna lie, I was tempted to reach for my gun as well."

The aqua one slowly fell down to his back as did Mike. _Hope for something better_. He looked to his left where he heard a calm breathing. Tucker seemed to be falling fast asleep already. _Maybe I will try hoping for something better once more again. You guys haven't exactly steered me wrong yet, so I will believe in you once more_. Just as his thought finished, his mind pacified and his eyes slowly closed. From the malnutrition and extreme fatigue experienced by the BGC, they all drifted into a slumber, one which they hoped to not wake up from anytime soon.

* * *

 **A/N: So how do we feel about this whole after math now?**

 **That's not the end though, there is more to come, more suffering. Now I would like any reader who decides to leave a review after reading this chapter to be honest with me when I ask, how do you feel that your loveable Reds and Blues are being subjected to these situations?**

 **I'm trying to gauge reader reactions here.**

 **Please leave a constructive review, as it can help me in the future. Thank you for your continued support and readership!**

 **~ Monty**


	25. Ray of Hope

**Chapter 24: Ray of Hope**

Light pierced through their closed eyelids with the intensity of a boiling day. Tucker slowly peeled them open only to feel the reality return to him in the form of unwanted, but now bearable pain. The others slowly sat up with their empty stomachs constantly feeling as if they were on the verge of puking. Simmons looks at the others quietly before asking. "Why are we even getting up? Let's all just go back to sleep."

"Good point," Grif agreed as he fell back down. "What is even the point in us going anywhere now?"

Around them were the bodies of those who left the planets by a different means, and the rubbles of the evacuation base that left their hopes in shambles. Caboose too lied back down quietly, no words were uttered and no noises were made. Mike and Tucker both used one another for support as they slowly stood up. Both men went around to their comrades to study their conditions up close, but it was clear as day that not only was it their body that was tired, but also their minds as well. Morally, they were destroyed for there was no longer any motivation left amidst this destruction. Tucker slowly hobbled his way over to Grif and sat down by his side. "Com- Come on guys, we gotta keep our head up."

"Yeah," Mike reinforced as he shook Simmons awake once more. "If we give up here, then there is nothing to look forward to at all for the future."

"Future this, future that," Grif scoffed. "I don't care about the fucking future, I just want off this shitty planet!"

"Come on Caboose, you understand what we are saying, right?" Tucker stared at his dark blue friend, but heard no response. Nothing could be heard coming from Caboose much to the worries of Tucker and Mike. The two went over to check his condition. He was awake and very quiet, just as he mostly had been ever since facing the reality of Iowa's death. Tucker stared back at the orange one. "Grif, if you give up here, what about Sister?"

The orange one looked at the aqua soldier, as if angered at the mention of her. Tucker looked up to the skies and spoke. "Even if you give up, she will probably live on and instead of joining up with one another, she will be carrying on the sadness of losing her brother all by herself."

Grif balled his hands as he felt his anger turned to frustration, surge. It was the truth that pushed this volcanic like surge, and the truth irritated him greatly for Tucker was correct. But he was unwilling to be moved so easily. He fell back down with a fatigued sigh escape his mouth. "I…just can't bring myself to…care anymore."

"Really?" Tucker tilted his head to the right as he stared into Grif's visor. The orange one averted his gaze to his side where he slowly closed shut his eyes. Tucker leaned in closer, almost to the annoyance of the orange one. "Then you wouldn't mind if I eat your secret stash of pudding back home, do you?"

 _Wait a minute_ , Grif's head turned around instantly as his eyes opened wide in confusion. _How would he know I have a secret stash of pudding back in Blood Gulch? No one should know that!_ Tucker's lips cracked open into a wide smile as he looked down with a sense of superiority. "Man, I bet it will be super delicious, especially after all this struggling. That pudding will sure hit the spot."

Grif felt his heart pound faster. _Tucker isn't joking around here_. He gripped his hands against the hard and jagged rock formations of the ground. The aqua one looked up with an idea as he rested his fist against his palm with a gentle bump. "Hey Caboose, want to eat that pudding together with me?"

The dark blue soldier remained quiet as he did his best to block out all noise. No matter what noise it was, it always somehow devolved into the familiar pitch of Iowa. Delta grew worried overtime as he had conveyed to Epsilon. But the fragments understood that they could do nothing but watch. They could only observe for they lacked the strength to even materialize right now as their host's suits ran low on power. _Rejected, huh?_ Tucker pondered as he felt a little heart sting. _With girls it's one thing, but with these guys, it feels completely different. So this is what rejection coming from a family member feels like_.

"Hey Grif," Tucker turned back around to notice the agitated expression on his orange friend's body. "What was it you used to say, pudding is love, pudding is life? Well pudding is going to be my tummy filler soon if you don't get your ass in motion."

As if propelled from the back, he smacked his hands hard onto the ground and felt a burst of energy he had long craved for. Grif raised a fist towards the aqua soldier and exclaimed. "No man other than I is worthy of consuming the high quality pudding I have for I'm the chosen one by the pudding lords!"

Tucker quickly chuckled at the declaration leaving Grif profoundly confused. "W- Why are you laughing? I'm serious!"

"I know," Tucker answered as he held his stomach that hurt both from the laughing, and the hunger. "It's just that I'm glad to see that there is still some remains of the Grif I knew before coming to this planet."

 _The 'me' he knew before coming here?_ Grif looked down at his body and then towards Simmons. _I suppose we have changed, and for the worse_. As Tucker offered a hand, Grif pulled himself up on it and the two men used one another as support as they approached their next agreed target. Mike was bent down by his side doing his best to talk to him, but those words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Grif quickly relieved the ODST of his efforts and instead then Mike went on his way to help Caboose up. The orange man gently nudged his maroon friend with his foot. "Simmons, get up."

"Eh, I don't think that's the best way of doing this," Tucker gently restrained Grif's leg as he turned back to Simmons then. "Come on man, we need to get moving."

 _It would be better if they just left me behind_. Simmons turned his face away from the two as he felt his body weigh down. _It would be better if I'm just forgotten for I don't deserve to be saved or anything. I don't deserve to leave this planet_. Grif poked Simmons on the chest as he leaned in closer. "Simmons, if you don't get up, I'm stealing your wallet and once we are off this planet, I'm going to go to Vegas to blow it all away there."

No response, a situation that left Grif baffled. "Huh, that threat usually gets him up."

"Up in what way?" Tucker asked before quickly following up. "Bow-chika-bow-wow!"

Yet as a means of a response, he felt his arm sore. To his right, Grif rested his fist strongly against Tucker's arm. "That was a horrible joke."

"Why have you guys been saying that lately?" he pondered in slight sadness as he rubbed his arm out of its pain. Grif took one of Simmons' arms and expected his aqua friend to do the same. "That's because you have had horrible timing lately, not that it was very good to begin with before. But it has gotten worse."

"Like you can do any better."

"I probably can't, not right now."

Tucker froze as the men finished lifting Simmons up. "A- Am I talking to the real Grif here?"

"Heh, yes you are," Grif chuckled to himself as he heard the doubt in Tucker's voice. The aqua one was however quick to recover from the shock. "Alright, Mike, do you have Caboose?"

"Yes, I do," answered the ODST as he slowly lifted Caboose up. "Although I must say, he weighs like led."

As the group began its slow walk, Simmons' mind was only filled with memories. They were memories of a worse off time. Memories of his comrades, shrouded in their own red as they each fell to their knees. _No, I don't want to see this_. But slowly, he drifted off into a deep sleep, and was left with no choice but to forcibly experience the deaths of his precious family over and over again.

* * *

A few days later, as the BGC trudged on, they noticed yet another few explosions in the distance. _A battle_ , they all thought. Tucker quickly looked around and found an entrance to a human base that they could cut through to head to the other end of the battlefield, without becoming involved. "We can go through there, just remember to keep your head low."

"What about food?" asked Grif as he tightly squeezed his stomach. Mike did the same having felt his cheeks redden at the loud roar it released. "You know, it wouldn't hurt to take a look around."

"And steal you mean?" asked Simmons as he looked down at the ground in guilt. They all knew that the soldiers fighting there needed the supplies just as much as them, if not more so. But their desperation screamed louder in their ears than logic did. As they lessened the distance between the base and themselves, the grim reality of the battlefield became clearer. It was no battle, it was a massacre. The Sangheilis maintained air superiority and simply opted to destroy the human soldiers from above. The BGC could do nothing but avert their gaze and simply keep on walking.

Caboose couldn't help but look towards the screams as his eyes opened wide in shock. His feet moved reflexively towards the battlefield, but he was quickly and abruptly stopped by his comrades! The dark blue soldiers stood still, fighting against their grip with every fibre in his body, and them with theirs to act as an immovable wall. Tucker held his friend by the chest and planted his feet deeply into the ground. "Listen Caboose, just look away and follow us!"

 _Dammit, not again_ , thought the whole lot of them as they slowly pulled Caboose towards the base's entrance. While tedious, they successfully managed to reach inside of the base. Quickly they took the more silent route so as not to arouse suspicion as the only ones right now in the base seemed to be of higher rank. It wasn't long before Grif's nose went off and quickly led him there like a dog to the base's pantry. His mouth watered, and before he could jump into a pool of vegetables, canned goods and fresh meat all kept in one area, he was restrained by Mike's neck lock. "Okay, calm down. We don't need you getting too excited about this Grif."

"At least one good thing has come out of this," Tucker pondered as he looked back out of the pantry's door. He still felt the pinging guilt sensation as did the rest. But their hunger won their hearts over. Quickly, the whole group took out their ration bags and filled it to the brim with as much as they could. This also included taking a quick bite to eat as they exited the base to satisfy their stomachs for now at least. Grif stopped in his tracks as he took a bit out of a piece of bread and looked back one last time. "I wonder if they will be alright."

Tucker nearly choked on his fruit when he heard that. "I never thought I would see the day come where you care about others like this."

"I have always cared," Grif shot back with some irritation evident in his voice. "I just don't bother showing it."

"Right, by being a dick," Tucker replied with a widened grin. Grif simply munched down his bread and continued walking forward. Mike took a piece of his own fruit and offered it to Caboose who walked with little interest in his stomach. "Here Caboose, you need to eat to keep up your strength."

No response. Mike looked at him in concern, and then to Tucker who observed the whole scene from afar. Simmons was slowly walking behind the rest, eating his piece of bread, little by little, while feeling the imposing stares all around him. He looked to his right to find Donut, slowly turn his head around with every bone crackling in his body. Simmons looked to his left, where he found Sarge, already staring into the maroon one's visor. His family, his failures, stared deep into his mind, and into his soul to send a sting throughout his whole body, a sting of never ending guilt. _You don't deserve to live, you are weak, you are pathetic and you are useless_. Those are just a few thoughts that would rush through his head everytime he looked one of them.

* * *

Now several meters away from the battlefield, and the noises blurred off into the distance, the BGC felt slight comfort. None dared to look back. As Grif continued to lead the way towards the hope of finding something else, perhaps finding an abandoned base with leftover vehicles, or a hospital where they could treat themselves, they heard the radio in their helmets crackle. Nearly all of them winced at the unexpected noise invading their ears. But quickly they all wanted to shut their radios off at the voice that followed the static. "Hello my sexies, how you all doing down there, having fun times ja?"

"I feel like shit!" Grif moaned. Muffins clapped his hands and squealed. "The best time then!"

"Why are you contacting us over this open channel?" demanded Mike as he took a hard seat onto the ground. "You realize how dangerous that is, don't you?"

"Really?" Muffins seemed genuinely surprised leaving the ODST to sigh in frustration. "I have always been doing it like this. Maybe the enemies don't bother attacking because of my sexy voice!"

"Not funny," Tucker retorted as he sat down like the rest. "Why did you contact us?"

"I just wanted to check in to see how my lovelies are doing. So, made any progress yet?"

"If you mean dying of hunger, then yes, we are well on our way to doing that."

"Oh no, my poor bunnies!" Muffins exclaimed as he nearly shook the Pelican out of control. In the background, they could hear the familiar voice. Grif's ears perked up with relief at her voice in particular. "Kaikaina?"

"Oh, hey big bro!" she exclaimed, and from the uncomfortable noises the German pilot made, they could tell she was getting up close to him. _At least you get to suffer some misery as well_ , thought them all. Tucker recovered quickly as his stomach began to ache from the laughter. "Muffins, that evacuation point you told us about, it turned out to be all for nothing."

Everyone on the other end went quiet. Muffins dared not to ask, but needed to know. "W- What do you mean?"

"The enemy has a fucking huge battleship is what we mean!" Grif exclaimed in response as he sat up and rested his head against his knee. "It wasn't even a battle anymore."

"Just a massacre," Simmons whispered with hardly an ounce of energy in his voice. Mike looked forwards where he felt as if he heard more screaming. "The battles seemed to have shifted in one direction only as well. It's no longer about us being able to keep up with the enemy, it's as Simmons put it, a massacre."

Again silence was present on the other side. Caboose turned to the others as none bothered to speak. "How are the others?"

In the background of all the noise from Muffins' side, they could hear Doc explaining the usual. Their status had not changed in the slightest aside from Sister's. It wasn't long before Muffins however opened his mouth again, although this time with a moderately useful piece of information. "I know of another evacuation point that you could try."

Tucker looked up from the ground instantly towards Mike. The two men shared a nod as Tucker quickly replied. "It's worth a shot. Tell us the position."

"It will be quite a walk ja, it's near the coast."

"Near the coast?" asked Grif as he looked all around with his arms spread wide out. "I haven't even seen one body of water on this planet ever since we arrived."

"Oh there is an ocean here bro," Sister commented as she felt the cool breeze hit her armor. "I'm staring at one, and it's pretty awesome."

"Well, I will take your guy's word on it," Tucker answered as he slowly stood up. "Heave-ho, alright guys, I say we go for it."

"As do I," Mike was the second to stand up. Simmons looked at the two and simply turned away. _Fools, they have already seen how outmatched we are. They still want to go on? Truly the jesters here I say. Giving up is better_. But his eyes widened at the agreement from the orange soldier. Grif now felt slightly revitalized having heard his Sister. _I'm going to go to her, and then we are all going to go home together_. Tucker thanked Muffins for his help and immediately proceeded to block out any egotistical comments Muffins threw out. The aqua one stretched his legs and arms. "Okay then, let's go guys. Hopefully this is the final stretch. Let's make the daylight count, move people, move!"

* * *

 **A/N: That was perhaps one of my shortest chapters aside from the Prologue in this story. I also know there wasn't much in the way of progress with the plot as much as it did with exploring more of Grif's and Simmons' state of mind in particular. But I hope that was an enjoyable read. The next chapter should be longer with a big surprise.**

 **Any constructive feedback you can provide is much appreciated!**

 **Thank you for reading and supporting the story, I really appreciate it!**

 **~ Monty**


	26. Hopelessness

**Chapter 25: Hopelessness**

The heat from the sun ached their joints as they slowly trudged along on the hard ground. Grif checked his ration bag and felt a great sense of satisfaction for they managed to escape their malnutrition somehow. Along the way, they came across many more abandoned bases, yet filled with food. The group felt a certain breeze in the air filled with the smell of salt. Tucker ran on ahead while careful not to trip over the jagged rocks. Right now, for any of them, a trip could be fatal due to their severe condition from before. Tucker ran up to an edge and peered down to the land below. His eyes widened with relief as he heard the gentle back and forth motion of the water. "I don't believe it, we made it."

Others quickly followed upon seeing his joy manifest with his arms rising in victory. They all knew what this meant, and a satisfaction enveloped them whole for their suffering was not for nothing. Mike felt his communicator vibrate just as he finished taking in the breathtaking sight. On the screen was the commander they first encountered on the planet, and he wore a most concerned but serious expression. "What is the status of your mission and the team?"

Mike promptly explained the situation, and as expected, he was met with both sadness but also curiosity from the elder man. "Care to tell me why you are all at the evacuation site? You are not assigned to one."

Grif felt a nerve pop as he leaned in close to Mike and spouted. "Look, I don't give a fuck if we are or not assigned to one. We are getting off this planet."

"Yeah," Tucker agreed as he leaned in from the other side, squeezing Mike out to the back. "We don't care about this war anymore. We just want off of this place, and we will do anything we need to make that a reality."

The commander quietly observed the anonymous faces as he felt the intensity of their glare raise the very hair on his skin. "Fine, but you should know that there will be severe consequences for this choice."

"From you?" asked Simmons. The commander shook his head as he pointed up. "It will be from the higher ups from the space stations."

"We already know," Mike answered as he waited patiently for someone to talk. The commander looked to his right where he noticed their positions on the map. "Head to the bottom of the cliff and go to the right, you will find one of the shorter lines of soldiers for the evacuation."

The others looked at the screen a little surprised. But pleasantly they all thanked him with gratitude. Grif leaned a little back from the screen and asked in a very defensive position. "Why the sudden change of heart to help us?"

"I don't like seeing soldiers fall and be killed," the commander looked to his left, off-camera where a book of dead soldier names under his command rested. The others nodded in respect as they turned and cut the communication. Quickly, the group had descended to meet the soft mushy sand beneath their feet. Tucker ran out to the front nearing the edge of where the water flowed in to. "Let's take five here before we get in a line."

* * *

A rest was very evidently needed as everyone took the opportunity to try and refresh. Mike's helmet floated beside him as half his body was covered in the nice cool feel of the ocean. The gentle waves pushed the helmet back further to the shore everytime, but pulled it back towards him as the waves retreated. He cupped a large amount of water in his hands and splashed it with much enthusiasm on his face. The water that stuck against his once sweaty skin acted as a coal shield in the wake of the sun's heat. He took in a deep breath and let out a relieved sigh. Almost as if driven by an urge, he immediately dunked his head into the ocean and felt the pressure hit him from all sides. But when he resurfaced, a wide smile painted itself across his face. He felt freedom, and victory in having survived this long so far for this one moment felt like a much needed reward.

Simmons stood as still as a rock as he stared out at the grown man playing within the water. Simmons watched the helmet slowly float back towards the shore by his feet. Mike waved his arms to him, no doubt asking him to keep it safe. The maroon one looked past the ODST as he felt heaviness in his heart. The horizon that seemed to stretch with the seemingly endless ocean left a feeling of deep contemplation in him. As if distant like the horizon, a dampened noise, with a low pitch exploded around him. He felt his body shaken from the impact in his mind. Noises of explosions triggered all around him, his breaths deepened as his mind slowly grew blank. With every new explosion, his body shook and very visibly so. He nearly tripped over his own feet onto the sand when he just rebalanced himself, he and noticed the scenery. It was calm, and just the same as it was when they arrived. But to his right, Grif lied still, with his back turned to the maroon one. Like an alarm triggering off, he immediately lessened the distance to his friend and kneeled down to study his condition. Before he could touch him however, he heard the gentle snoring, only to be disturbed by his presence. Grif looked back up and tilted his head in a most curious manner. "Why are you leaning over me like that?"

Simmons smiled himself silly as he shook his head. "Nothing, it was nothing."

Just as he had leaned down to relax his muscles he felt a chill travel up his spine at the familiar voice of the red leader. "Are you sure?"

Simmons looked to his front where Sarge sat on his knees. In front of him was a pool of crimson red, dripping like a river. Simmons noticed a streak of pink by his right. Much to his horror stood Donut, giving a most ghastly glare. All around him were those who died at his hands due to his failure as a leader. Behind him was Iowa, and to his left was Lopez, each with their injuries evident clearly under the light. Simmons felt his balance weaken as he noticed their unmoving glare towards his eyes. He felt his heart race, and not necessarily in a pleasant manner.

"You let us…die," they all spoke in unison and caused his panic to eclipse. He covered shut his ears as he gently shook his head. "No, you are not here."

"You let us die!"

"Stop."

"You let us die!"

"Please, stop."

"Why do you get to live and not us?!"

"Stop!" Simmons screamed to the surprise of the others. Tucker quickly rushed over to shake his friend out of what the aqua one could only describe to be an episode. Tucker stared at Simmons who leaned with the support of his hands against his thigh armor. _Looks like Mike's deductions were spot on. I didn't want to believe it, but it really is bad_. The others looked worriedly as they did their best to cover up their surprise. Grif turned around and lifted his head with one hand. "Are you okay Simmons?"

Quiet to the concerns, he simply eyed the evacuation point and began to drag his feet leaving a trail in the sand. The others quickly got up, dried themselves off and followed the maroon one. It wasn't long before they caught up to Simmons. Each of them did their best to support Simmons and Caboose as best as they could. Grif always remained by his best friend's side, and Tucker by Caboose's. Mike took the lead and studied the lines of soldiers coming closer with every step.

* * *

As far as they could see, there was no end to the multitude of lines of desperate soldiers, looking for a way off just like them. Grif looked ahead and pointed out to the shortest line. "We can go to that one."

"Are these all for the evacuation?" wondered Tucker as they reached the line and quickly made themselves comfortable. Tucker gently patted the soldier in front of him and motioned towards the front. "Hey man, where are the ships?"

The red soldier pointed out to the ocean, where a lone platform with a launching tube was fixed against the ocean floor. Tucker gave a look of serious confusion as did the rest of the BGC. The soldier simply shook his shoulders as he spoke in an equally tired and a voice devoid of hope. "I guess they don't want the enemy to raid them by land."

"Yeah, so they make themselves an easy target on the water," Tucker mused as he shook his head in disbelief. "That's just dumb."

"Tell me about it," Grif laughed as he sat down in the sand and stretched his limbs. Mike stood beside the orange one questioning his metabolism. "You just had a rest, and you are sitting down again?"

"I gotta make up somehow for all those missed naps."

"You can do that when you get back home."

"I somehow doubt I will be able to," Grif replied as he looked towards Simmons with a pain filled expression as he knew that his best friends bore the same scars as him through this experience. "I imagine that there will be a lot of sleepless nights."

"You never know," Mike bent down by Grif's side as he took note of the little movement in the line. Grif shook his head adamant to any other conclusion. "No, I know, I know all too well."

As Caboose was lying down on the ground, he felt a change in pressure behind him. The aqua soldier looked down to his right at his once innocent friend and looked out towards the ocean. "Hey Caboose, top five things you like about the ocean, go!"

After a few minutes, Tucker looked back down to his friend for only silence had greeted him. "Caboose?"

Once more there was only silence. Tucker sighed in fatigue himself. _I think Grif has the right idea by wanting to rest as much as we can right now. It will be a long trip home_. Mike watched the rest of the group as Simmons stood still like a rock again. The ODST watched the line move and prompted for the others to move with him. "You know, it was a short while but I'm going to miss you guys."

With the whole of BGC now up, they looked at him with varying feelings. But Tucker felt the same. "Yeah, we got off to a shitty start, but here is hoping to a better tomorrow for all of us."

"A better tomorrow," Mike echoed with a kind gesture of a gentle grip on Tucker's shoulder. The soldiers around them began to look up in curiosity. The BGC initially did not understand why, but when they noticed Mike slowly turning his head, they too did so. As thunder began to roar in the sky, they saw one of their many fears realized. It was an enemy assault. Banshees swooped down from the sky, leaving a sound of thunder in their wake. The BGC reacted fast and spread out in various directions. They jumped forward only to hit their stomachs hard against the ground and released a grunt. Grif saw Mike standing in confusion, having failed to react fast enough. "Get down now Mike!"

The enemy opened fire. To Simmons, the explosions seemed blurred and distant, but the reality spoke differently as they closed in, and many bodies went flying from the impact. Sand flew up, and with it, so did their thin sense of security. Before Tucker was able to make sense of it, he had seen an enemy attack directly hit their ODST friend who failed to jump out of the way fast enough. Tucker wanted to reach out in time, but his body itself was frozen by what he might have felt to be an impending death. Ultimately, Tucker was left with the sight of the Banshees where he once saw Mike's body. The mass disintegrated into atoms which flew with the waves of air created from the impacts around the beach.

The aqua soldier balled his hands and gritted his teeth as he closed shut his eyes in respect. _God dammit!_ He looked up towards the Banshees turning around for another round. They circled above like hawks on a hunt who eyed their prey. There was nothing to see but terror where Mike once stood. Tucker dug his helmet into the sand as all he could see was darkness. _Even though our time was short and shit happened, I know we could have become good friends…why, why is it that everyone is dying?!_

Another round of bombing began. Tucker felt the sand shake and blow atop them. The explosions again began to come close and this time their hearts pounded harder as Caboose did his best to hold his wince in. The reds of the BGC looked at one another as they were the closest together and were relieved to find the other still lying belly flat. Tucker felt his hands dig into the warm sand as his fingers trailed through their resistance. _His parents and his brother's kids will now have to deal with another loss. Is there no happiness to be found? Clearly not here_.

* * *

As soon as the sound of the Banshees quietened, Grif and Simmons slowly lifted their heads out of the sand and felt chunks fall of their back. They slowly stood up on their knees to the eye opening scene of horror. The land looked no longer the same, and neither did the number of the soldiers. As panic quickly broke out and the intensity arose in the air from the growing violence to escape, the two reds looked to one another and nodded in silence. But their similar thoughts were not as private as they had believed. By Tucker's side appeared a very blocky Church, worrying both the blues. "Hey badass, you may want to stop the reds."

"Why?"

"Their fragments tell me that they are about to lose it themselves, like the rest of the soldiers here."

Tucker's eyes widened at the message as he saw them stand up and make a break for the water line. Tucker however ensured his positioning between them and the rest of the soldiers. He landed a firm blow with his palms on their chests and pushed them down to the ground on their backs with a loud thud. He felt their squirming bodies, making every effort to stand up, but to his benefit, he had made sure to regain his strength by conserving whatever energy he could and finish his survival portions in preparation for this evacuation. His strength, while weaker than the average man, it was still stronger than the rest of the group, even stronger than Caboose for now. Grif held Tucker's arm tightly, to the point the aqua one felt as though he was going to snap it. _The desperation is making him crazy strong. Just how can he get this much energy?_ Tucker pondered as he pushed down harder until the two reds began to feel the air leave their bodies. "Just stay down will you?!"

"Shut up!" Grif exclaimed to the surprise of the aqua soldier as he felt the resistance increase. "You may not want to, but I'm getting off this fucking rock!"

"Oh yeah, and that's by creating even more disorder?" Tucker asked as he rested a knee atop Grif, the sensation ached strongly as it was almost piercing his chest. Simmons smacked Tucker's chest a little further up only to then meet the same treatment as Grif as he too felt the very life be squeezed out of him. "If you guys keep this up, there will be no order. Disorder only reduces our chances of survival. You want to survive, don't you?!"

Both the reds slowly nodded as they continued to resist against the knee. Tucker leaned in close as he looked down towards the sand without a single blink. His eyes shone with clarity, but at the same time a hint of fear vocalized in his tone. But in the face of this overwhelming infighting, he maintained a clear enough head with some help of Sigma and Church to be able to try and keep the peace. Tucker slapped away their hands just as they were about to hit his thighs again. "Then quit this and behave. Believe me, the sooner there is order, and calmness around here, the greater the chances of our survival."

* * *

"Muffins," Caboose mumbled prompting others to follow his gaze. The sky captured everyone's attention as the thunder broke through their ear drums, a familiar and horrifying noise that forced them all to hit the ground. Tucker released the two reds as he let out a surprised gasp at the flying vehicles. "That is Muffins, how the hell was he caught onto by the enemy?"

Behind the Pelican were three enemy fighters, all tailing the German pilot quite closely, and no matter the twists and turns, he could not shake them off his tail. Caboose gently gripped Tucker by the arm and looked up towards his friends in the sky. "Will they be okay?"

Tucker looked from his dark blue friend to the fighters in the air with uncertainty. The rest did the same as every soldier felt the chills travel down their spine. Even in a place of what they thought was to be peaceful, they were proven wrong today once already, but now once more as they witnessed how badly the Medical Pelican struggled. Many soldiers grew angered over the gall of the enemy to attack a medic ship. This one sight killed all infighting, and instead turned their hatred back in the direction it was in originally. But the enemy cared not for they had the upper hand in firepower.

Muffins tilted the stick to the left as he took a hard curve back and then to the right. In the passenger area, Doc did his best to tie down the patients and bodies. Sister aided him, but quickly found herself in need of help thanks to the rough flying. The Pelican arched upwards as it did a loop-de-loop and left the enemy confused. Just as they managed to regain their senses of the surroundings, it was too late as the German pilot was behind them all. It didn't long before panic settled in for them. One Banshee went down by the dance of bullets through the air. Then quickly another followed. The soldiers on the surface all cheered in unison as they could taste the victory. As hard as the enemy tried, the tables had quickly turned and so was their confidence. With a final few shots, the final Banshee descended deep into the ocean with its now fearful occupant, who was left to die a lonely death. The human soldiers all cheered louder than ever before and so did those conscious aboard the Pelican. "Ja, ja, praise your almighty sexy German pilot people."

A loud, violent and thunderous noise echoed from the stratosphere. All looked up at the very horror that raised their hairs. From the outline of the large battleship above, the BGC knew of the culprit, and they feared the worst. From the ship, three large plasma blasts released. Two of which Muffins barely dodged as one grazed by the hull. Sister could feel the heat itself from the energy melting through the metal. The third plasma ball was hurling down with no time for Muffins to dodge with. He eyed the shields on his Pelican. They were all drained from the previous attacks. The ball was inches away as the German pilot felt his heart freeze for a moment. The ball broke through the glass and melted the metal all around. The shards flew straight for the pilot as they pierced through his armor and sent a sensation of sharp pain all throughout his body. His eyes widened at the feeling as his mind felt it be too much. Within seconds his body went numb, and his mind cleared as he no longer felt any control, only that darkness closed in on his vision. With the turbulence increasing with the broken cockpit, his body shook all around until it leaned forward on the flying stick. The occupants felt the sudden change in pressure, and the BGC looked in horror to see the cruiser from before having pierced the Pelican. As the ship went down to the many gasps of the humans, the BGC followed it and did their best to guess its trajectory. The occupants of the Pelican looked around in a panic as Doc checked in the cockpit. He nearly cried out the German pilot's name, but it was all too late as Muffins had already passed on. He tried to take the stick, but his speed failed him for he was too slow against the strength of gravity. The Pelican hit the ground with a loud impact and slid against the sand, spinning out of control until it hit a few sharp and jagged rocks along the way that slowly ate away at the ship. The occupants flung inside the passenger area as their restraints came undone, or broke. Many met their final unfortunate moments, but those who died quicker were the lucky ones for those still alive, their suffering was to continue towards a more painful death.

* * *

The BGC felt their heart race with worry as they all quickly abandoned their spot. Led by Grif, they all ran in the direction of the crash, they needed to only follow the wreckage to find the sight of horror as Grif and Simmons got there first. Grif felt his legs grow shaky just from what he saw inside of the ship from the damage holes on the outer hull. Simmons quickly motioned for him to help him open the back door. As the two men gritted their teeth with all their might, they pulled the door down and looked up inside only to find their bodies freeze a moment, and process the scene. _This is fucked up_ , thought the both of them.

"Are they okay?" shouted Tucker as he and Caboose caught up, but he was quickly prompted to stop by Simmons and so was Caboose. Tucker held the dark blue soldier back and gave a look of question. Simmons simply shook his head, and warned them. "Don't come any closer, keep Caboose away from here."

 _But even though I say that_ , Simmons felt his stomach churn as he noticed that Grif fell on his knees. He quickly removed his helmet as he felt the bile travel up his throat. It could no longer be contained. It escaped the only passageway it could and left most a sour, foul, and persistent taste behind. Grif leaned forward to rest on his hands as he pushed his legs upwards. "Kaikaina…"

As Simmons wiped his mouth clean, he looked ahead and slowly walked towards the cockpit. Inside he saw Muffins' body, but his eyes widened at seeing Doc as well. Both bodies left his mind scathed. Doc's body sat halfway out of the window, clearly affected by the violent crash as he missed his left arm. None of them moved, and Simmons could only presume them to be dead. Grif looked down from the string of limbs flung about in the area as he did his best to avoid disturbing the bodies. He noticed the yellow suit of armor however and rushed to her side. His lungs nearly went empty at the view now deeply engraved into his mind. "Kaikaina!"

Simmons eyed the back of the Pelican as he heard his orange friend's voice. He quickly rushed over and past the still worrying sight to only see the big brother sitting on the floor as he cradled his little sister. Behind them was Donut, now having met the same fate as the others. Many metal pieces impaled him on the various points of his body. Sister had a large metal piece of the hull going through her stomach. Grif could feel the shortness of breath affect his brain as he felt his vision dizzy. "No, no, not you to, this isn't happening. No, this can't be real!"

Simmons bent down by the two and gently placed a hand on his friend's shoulder as he picked up the crumpled gift Grif gave to her once. It was a silent sign for Grif. It was a sign for him to release the emotions he was doing his best to hold back. Like a swirl of emotions slowly boiling up out of a volcano, he felt his energy reach its highest in his vocal cords. "Kaikaina, you can't do this to me, please!"

Simmons looked away as he heard the loud sobbing. He himself held back the tears as he could very well feel the presence of all his friends around him, staring at him with a scowl and slowly disappearing as they point out his guilt to him in the form of this tragedy. Grif looked at Simmons as he then looked back to his sister. He took off her helmet and gently stroked her long blonde hair. "What am I going to tell mom, what am I supposed to do now that you are gone? Don't do this to me, please…Kaikaina!"

Tucker fell to his knees at hearing her name repeatedly. He knew the meaning, and he knew the pain that invaded his chest, yet another family member gone. As the crying intensified, Simmons gently lifted Grif up who was forced released the body and began to pull towards the door. Grif struggled with all his might, only wishing to remain by the body. "No, let go of me. I can't leave her here!"

Quiet, Simmons continued to pull and finally after fighting against Grif's growing strength, the two were able to leave the Pelican. The orange one struggled some more until Simmons pinned him down to the ground. "There is nothing we can do now, they are dead Grif. Donut, Sister, and Doc are all dead. We need to get to the extraction now!"

"Does their deaths mean nothing to you?!" Grif shouted in furiousness as he then saw a trail of water drip down from the little crevice between the maroon helmet and his chin. The orange one quickly went quiet as he simply looked towards his sister's body. "I'm not leaving her here!"

As Simmons was knocked off, Grif tried to rush back inside, but was stopped by the combined efforts of Tucker and Simmons. "No, let go of me, Kaikaina! Kaikaina! I can't leave her! KAIKAINA!"

"We are leaving, now!" Tucker shouted as he eyed a few set of boats approach the beach with a loud alarm ringing from the launch station. "The evacuation boats are here. These will be the last ones before they shut this evacuation point down. It's now or never!"

In space, multiple UNSC battleships escaped the various slip space portals, and managed to surround the Sangheili battle cruiser. The Sangheilis looked at the ships all around and felt a growing sense of pressure to surrender, and yet their admiral would not allow it. There was only survival now, no negotiation for peace in the Admiral's mind.

Simmons pulled harder as they finally managed to drag the orange one aboard. As the boats left, Grif leaned towards the edge to reach out to her, only held back by his family. Tucker looked down at all the dog tags he had collected when Simmons pulled Grif back to the boat. He rubbed each one of them clear of the dust and gave a sigh of anger, yet grief as well. Simmons held out the gift towards Grif who looked at it with new tears welling up. Simmons looked towards the beach crash site as he said. "To remember her by."

Grif silently took it with shaky hands as he secured the gift close to his chest. It wasn't long before they reached the sea platform and were quickly loaded up onto the Pelicans. Together, they felt the tremble of the ship as it launched vertically into the air like a rocket. The sight of the crashed Pelican grew smaller until it was now just a memory to be repeated in their heads. Tucker stared at more and more of the destroyed lands as he recalled the death of each of his family members. It signified pain, loss, and growth for them in one way or the other. But at the same time, he as well as the other soldiers felt relief for they finally managed to leave the blasted war torn lands. Now, they could finally go home.

* * *

 **A/N: So they finally get off the planet and the war for them is over. What did you guys think of the whole adventure and the death routes this story took?**

 **There is still a bit more to give the story a sense of closure, so stay tuned!**

 **Constructive feedback is appreciated!**

 **Music Suggestion: When Caboose says "Muffins", personally I find that the soundtrack "The Oil" from Dunkirk film OST sets the mood well for the scene. Imagine that whole OST playing up until the Medical Pelican is shot down.**

 **Thank you so much for taking the time to read, I appreciate your support!**

 **~ Monty**


	27. Broken

**Chapter 26: Broken**

A sliver of light entered a parting door as the remaining BGC stared towards their exit. The once humming sound of the Pelican they stood within stopped as it gently vibrated beneath their floor. The sound of rubber wheels hitting against the hard rocks became evident that they reached it. As the doors finished opening, the crew walked out to the familiar, yet somehow lonelier sight of Blood Gulch. They were truly home, and yet still felt foreign to it. Tucker looked at the Blue base and the Red base. He noticed Sheila exit out from the back of the Blue base. _It looks like she did a great job of keeping things in order here_. He looked back to his family with a yearning for a spark to return in their eyes. _I wish I could say the same for you three_.

As the Mantis droid walked towards the exit of the Pelican, she curiously noticed the few numbers. "Welcome home everyone. I made sure to keep things under control. Caboose, it is so good to see you. Freckles is going to be excited to see you once more. By the way, I noticed that there are less of you, where is everyone else…where is Lopez?"

Tucker watched his red friends slowly depart towards their own home, as Caboose did the same for Blue base. Tucker watched the others disappear from his view as Sheila waited patiently, however the silence grew to be unnerving for her. "Tucker?"

"He didn't make it," the aqua soldier spoke looking her straight into her visual receptors. The robot quickly silenced as she replayed the words from her audio receptors. Tucker looked down with his face muscles slowly squeezing into a painful and uncomfortable expression. "I'm sorry."

With a slow turn, and ground shaking stomps, she slowly walked away in silence. No more words were uttered and she exited the canyon from one of the sides towards the caves. Tucker made a special note and walked towards his home, he felt a heavy sense of relief that came at a large cost. Tucker left the others to their own devices, but it wasn't until a few days later where his worries started to become too much even for him to handle. The silent suffering of the others and Sheila nowhere to be seen left him in just as much stress as much as he was worried. With a gentle knock, he saw Caboose's big back facing him. Freckles lied resting by his bedside. Every attempt he made to get his master to speak, it always ended in failure. Tucker slowly walked in as he took a look around the room. It was a big mess. _You are usually the clean type Caboose_. He clapped his hands and noticed how he got the innocent soldier's attention. "Hey Caboose, how are you doing?"

"Fine."

"I haven't seen you around much bud," he replied as he leaned against one of the walls, hoping to get into Caboose's sight. "What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"If you would like, can we go for a walk perhaps Captain Caboose?" inquired Freckles. Tucker agreed to the idea as he encouraged the notion. "That sounds good to me Caboose. Maybe going out for a walk will be good. You know, to stretch the legs and what not."

"No."

"Want to play a card game?" Tucker offered by holding out a deck. Only silence greeted him as an answer. With a heavy sigh, Tucker felt his mind ponder into the past when the Freelancers still roamed with them. _How did you ever manage him at times like these Wash? Clearly, I'm being garbage at this…just what can I do to help you Caboose?_

* * *

In red base, Simmons sat by the base computer and heard the heavy footsteps of his friend echo through the halls. _He is up and moving again_. Simmons turned an eye to his left where he saw the distorted shadow stick to the walls. _This is probably the thirtieth time today_. Simmons watched the orange one enter the scene and pass the maroon soldier silently. Both men remained silent to one another. It had been so ever since their return. To Simmons, it felt as though he could hear the usual noises of the base sometimes, but he knew that it was nothing more than a pathetic attempt by his mind to fill the void. To Grif, he could feel the presence of the pink soldier, always bugging him about something, but again for him too, that was memories leaking into reality, in the hopes of easing the pain.

The days were spent by both in silence, simply wandering the halls without an end goal in mind, and the nights were spent sleepless. Simmons could no longer find the peace he once did in his sleep just like with Grif. The explosions, his friends all dismembered and gore all unpleasantly greeted his mind's eye within the once dream land, now turned into an infinite nightmare. It was night and he found himself sitting at the edge of his bed as always. The maroon soldier eyed the cellphone resting on the desk as he moved to turn on the lamp. He slid out the chair and took a hard seat. _I may as well make use of my time then_. Having popped open the back cover to the cellphone, he studied his supplies and got to work on replacing any of the fried or broken components visible to his eyes. As per the par so far, he heard Grif's footsteps echo past his room several times that night. Both knew that they worried about one another, but they could not take action for the same reasons. How could they expect to help one another when they couldn't even help themselves? So instead, silence was their answer, silence to the whole world around them.

The sun slowly arose from atop the canyon and brought a cool morning chill. Simmons cracked his eyes open, having not slept a wink as he let out a loud yawn and held the phone in his hands. He turned the power on and played around with its functions. _It's archaic, but I have finally got it working_. He smiled at this sense of small accomplishment. Simmons flipped down and again opened the phone screen as he pondered to himself. "Why did I ever start working on you? Was it in the hopes of some closure, can I even get that now?"

Simmons looked at the shotgun to the side of the room, that gently leaned against the wall. He slowly rose up and walked over only to gently graze it with his fingers. He felt his heart swell with a river aching to blow past its obstacles. "What am I to do now as a soldier that you are no longer here Sarge?"

He held the gun in his hands and felt its weight. "With you no longer here, the weight of this gun seems to be much heavier. Funny how I never noticed it back then."

His grip suddenly weakened as he saw liquid build up and drip down from one side of the gun down to the floor. _Eh?_ Simmons felt moisture on his cheeks as he heard his heart deepen in its beats. More and more came out and his vision slightly blurred from the overflow. _Why?_ Simmons quickly closed his eyes with a sniff. _Why am I crying?_ He rubbed his eyes clean and took special care with the gun. "Why the fuck am I so helpless with you here Sarge, why can I not accept that you and the others are dead?!"

In a sudden fit of anger, he punched the metal wall that sent painful shivers throughout his body. "Just what the hell am I supposed to do now that you are gone Sarge, what can I even do being the broken, and fucked up soldier that I'm now?!"

Again, he heard the echoes of the orange one's footsteps pass his doorway. The reminder that he was not alone in the base was enough for him to quickly silence and lock his emotions away. He slowly stood up after cleaning his nose and walked over to the phone. As he flipped it open and accessed the ringtone menu, he felt a small smile overcome him at the memories that flooded his mind of his visit to the junkyard with Edwards. _He was so excited then to be going with me to gather parts for his computer_. Yet even a happy memory such as that quickly turned to an explosive gory mess that Edwards was after his execution. Simmons nearly dropped the phone at the image of his young friend's detonated head flash in his mind.

The maroon soldier sat down to catch his breath as he felt a heavy sensation build from his stomach, and slowly travel up his throat. _I couldn't save you. I couldn't be a good role model. I couldn't do anything back then, nor can I do it now_. He leaned forward with a heavy pressure applied against his stomach. The pain subdued, only a little, but the aching of his heart was not one to be gone so easily. He felt the piercing gazes of his fallen comrades, all around, and above him like gods gazing down pitiful mortal beings. It was a feeling too heavy for his mind to bear alone. He felt his head drop hard against the desk with a loud thud and a silent curse escaped his lips. "Can I ever rest in peace now?"

"No," and Simmons' head rose up at the voice. It was the red leader that sat to Simmons' right, on his bed. Sarge looked away as he quickly disappeared within the blink of an eye. Simmons leaned back with a slight smirk as he once again cursed under his own breath. "I can't go one day without these hallucinations, can I now?"

* * *

In a sudden fit of almost panic, he walked out of the room and just like his base mate. He walked without a goal in mind until his stomach began to churn with hunger. _Even as I'm now, my body still demands food. Hunger never seems to go away_. To his right he noticed the visions of his haunters. They all stood, apart from one another to his right, waiting for him to walk by as if he were doing a walk of shame. Some dared to scoff words of disdain at his existence, at his very life. Simmons stopped mid-way, nearly having reached the kitchen as he could no longer accept these words with open ears. But outside he heard the noises of sprinkling water. _Is Grif outside?_ Simmons neared a window only to find the pink one, humming a happy tune as he watered his garden. Quickly though the water stopped, the pink one stared oddly at the water pipe and the leaves in his garden quickly withered, only to leave rotten vegetables behind. Donut stood in the patch of his own aged garden with a saddened gaze as he released the pipe against the hard and dry dirt. "It's your fault you know."

Simmons almost fell back at the sudden and powerful stare. Donut phased through the wall and leaned over him, pinning him down with his knee to the ground. Simmons knew this was not reality, and yet his body accepted it as such when his very chest ached within his mind. "I had so much life left in me, so many things I wanted to do. Now all of that has been stolen from me thanks to you. You are a failure, an incompetent man!"

"No…I…that's not true," Simmons whispered hoping for the hallucination to disappear. Donut stood up and applied pressure to Simmons' chest with one foot. He scoffed with disgust at the pitiful sight that was the maroon soldier. "If that was not the truth, then why else would you be begging like this, or even seeing us to begin with?!"

Quickly, with the blink of an eye however, Donut disappeared. His mind felt relieved as he curled up onto the ground against the chill of the metal that pierced his armor. Having caught his breath, Simmons slowly stood up to find his mentor once again standing with Lopez in the main control room, just opposite to the kitchen. Simmons seemed to take notice of the saddened and weak body posture as the two stared out at the desolate morning canyon. "Why did I spend all that time training you to be a better leader Simmons, if you were just going to try and pass on that responsibility to Grif?"

Pain was evident from the voice, pain of betrayal. Simmons was powerless to simply listen for he had no words to exchange with. Sarge looked towards his once proud student and shook his head in absolute disappointment. "Just what did my wisdom mean to you exactly? Clearly it was not much if you are willing to throw it all away."

"No, you are wrong," Simmons suddenly protested, and for his own sake he felt thankful to be doing so. "It meant a great deal to me sir, and I'm thankful. You were a figure in my life that I could not find anywhere else. I'm thankful for all that you did for me. But there are even limits I can't surpass. I'm only human. Knowing that you are permanently gone is one of them."

"Hmph," Sarge turned to leave with Lopez following. "You deserve every bit of the guilt Simmons. All the deaths were related to your choices and inaction at times. You failed as a leader even after all that I tried to teach you. In the end, all of this has been your fault."

Simmons quickly felt his legs weaken at the words that pierced his heart like a freshly tempered knife. He slid down towards the ground with the help of the wall as he let out a deep breath. _Am I really that guilty?_ He looked down towards the floor with a slight shake of his head. _If so, then what is my place as a soldier, where should I be and what should I really be doing next?_

* * *

Grif stepped into his room with the same pressure behind his footsteps as in the rest of the base. He looked at the barely illuminated corners as he felt his whole body weigh down, not just from the fatigue, but from the lack of sleep as well. He cursed his prediction back on the beach for it came to be true. He eyed a table near his bed and quickly cleared away the magazines. He stored his special stash underneath his bed as he then simply stared at their illuminating shadows. _If she were here, she would probably smell them out in a jiffy. She always had a strange talent for finding stuff like this_. His eyes widened at a sudden pressure however as he looked down towards his hands, but there was nothing there but thin air. All around, there was no one but him, all alone.

"Heh, heh, hah, hah!" Grif leaned down against his bed as he rested his forehead against the mattress. "Am I going crazy, maybe just like Simmons?"

With laughter of pity aimed at himself, he felt his eyes swell with tears as his grip tightened on the messy bed sheets. "I must be going insane. Just how damaged am I, and how damaged are the others now thanks to that fucking terrible decision to go to the fucking war lands?! How broken have we become?"

He gently reached for a drawer and took out a familiar, and heart pinging photo of his family. Seeing as it was already framed, he set it atop the top of his bed side desk. He took a hold of the present, and straightened it a little. The product itself surprisingly was still fine, yet tears flowed as the recipient could no longer ever speak to him again. He couldn't just walk across the canyon for some sibling banter, or to tell her how much she meant as family to him in private, nor could he go there to embarrass her in front of the others in good fun. He finally felt the complete heaviness of the loneliness. He gently placed the gift beside the photo with a small smile of gratitude. _Thank you for your patience with me, your wackiness and for always making things fun. You were quite the trouble maker, and you embarrassed the family often no doubt, but you never let anything get you down as you found even happy moments in that. You chose to focus on the simple things and support us, your friends and family. Without you, it's like I have lost a part of myself_.

Grif reached into his back pocket from where emerged his last pudding in his hand. It was now rotten, way past its expiration date. _I would have given this to you after our fight against those bastard aliens in place of a birthday cake_. He placed it beside the present as he slowly stood up with a soft whisper. "Happy belated birthday…"

With a small shuffle, he exited his room to the lonely and quiet hallways. He slowly reached for the base's main computer and powered it on. He accessed the long range communications app for which he dialed her number. _What am I going to tell her?_

Grif watched the circle spin beside the telephone symbol dial as the network on the back worked hard to establish a connection with her. _Can I even look her in the eye now?_ He gripped the edge of the computer as his mind spun in circles. The once black screen transitioned to the live feed of a bearded woman. Grif gripped his hands together with a barely noticeable squirm. He did his best to try and face up to her once her gaze of concern began to affect him. He swallowed his saliva for some courage before he finally spoke up and decided to do what was necessary in telling her the news. "Hi mom…"

* * *

 **A/N: So how was that chapter with the reds?**

 **Constructive feedback is appreciated!**

 **The next chapter will be the last one, thank you so much for sticking it out this long with the story!**

 **~ Monty**


	28. Simmons' Decision

**Chapter 27: Simmons' Decision**

In the center of the canyon, with the flicker of many different colored lights, came the various forms of the fragments that stood in a circle. Church looked at his gathered brothers, and lowered his head in silence for those missing. Delta accounted for those present at the meeting and announced. "I believe that we should begin our meeting."

"I agree brother," Sigma motioned for Church to take the lead as the others consented. The Epsilon fragment looked around to the others as he was at a loss for words. But words were something he never had trouble truly formulating. "We have all come so far with our hosts. We have all seen some messed up shit, the recent war probably takes the cake."

"It was a disaster for us all," Gamma spoke up with the other fragments agreeing. Delta looked towards the Blue base as he thought of his own host and asked. "How are your hosts doing?"

Every fragment went quiet. Delta knew that no one came unscathed. It was an established fact even when they were just struggling to remain active within their host's armor on that war planet. Church and Sigma nodded their head in agreement as the fiery fragment took the lead in the explanation. "Tucker seems to be doing alright for now. But he has been affected by the events. He seems to be experiencing symptoms of mild depression, although he has maintained a calm exterior quiet well."

"Probably for Caboose's and the red's sake," Church theorized as the others could not find any other reason for it to be so. "I'm sure he will be fine though."

"Even with Sister gone?" asked Gamma as every fragment recalled the adventures Tucker shared with Sister in the past. Church nodded his head vigorously and said. "He will have to be. It's not like time is just going to slow down for him to take care of his own problems. Plus, I know he is strong enough to pull through."

"Caboose on the other hand," Delta said as he looked towards the area of the base where Caboose's room would be. "I am very concerned about him."

"I wouldn't be if I were you D," Church crossed his arms with some levity to his whole body as if a heavy burden was just lifted. _It felt good to tell them about Tucker. We are all a family to at the end of the day I suppose_. Church laughed to himself as he recalled all the past times Caboose faced a similar situation. "He gets really depressed, but he also has a historical streak of recovering pretty fast."

"How about the reds?" inquired Sigma. Gamma looked back to Red base and nearly gave a frown, a surprising action for all present there. The fact that Gamma almost broke their stoic nature left the others worried even more so for the reds. "They are in worse condition as the deaths of the others weigh heavily on them, even the death of Mike and those other ODST soldiers."

"It doesn't help that we ended up losing some very important team mates," said Church as the others nodded in agreement. Delta however found some admiration for their final choice. "I find it to be quite courageous of them to stay with their hosts till the end."

"As do I,' said Church. The others gave a moment of silence before Sigma finally broke it with a gentle voice. "It feels as though a part of us is gone now."

"A part we will never get back," Church finished. Eta fidgeted in his spot as the others noticed the slight disturbance in him. Church lessened the distance between them and asked. "What's up buddy?"

In a quick moment, the other fragments knew of Eta's thoughts and felt an even greater sadness. Church looked towards Red base and inquired. "Is his mind all made up then?"

Eta nodded his head as the others lowered theirs in grief. Church looked up and shook his head in disbelief. _Will the number just keep on decreasing?_ And with those closing remarks, all the fragments quickly zapped to their respective bases and into the armor of their hosts.

* * *

In Blue base, within the room full of passivity from the only soldier, came about Delta. The fragment looked at the wide back of his host. _How many days has it been like this now?_ The fragment recounted. _While Epsilon tried to assure us that Caboose will be fine, I still somehow doubt that. I cannot leave him alone_. The fragment watched the dark blue soldier shift positions in bed who slowly turned towards Delta. The green fragment knew that Caboose was awake, but no words were spoken. No greetings were exchanged. "Perhaps you should take a walk outside Caboose, it cannot be good for you to stay cooped up in here for so long."

"Hm…," Caboose looked at his small companion and the fragment knew that the host considered his concern very seriously. However, it seemed that the space did not belong to just Delta and Caboose. Church molded onto the scene as his powdery blue dust pixilated into one whole being. "Hey Caboose, holding up alright?"

The Epsilon unit just then noticed Delta behind him. _Uh oh, did I walk into the middle of something?_ Delta quickly took his stance by Epsilon's side as the two stared at the lifeless Caboose. Looking into his visor was like looking into a void, one in which they could get lost in and never find their way back from. Church crossed his arms and leaned in close to Delta. In a soft whisper he questioned the green fragment. "What were the two of you talking about?"

"I was merely making a suggestion for him to go take a walk, to leave his room."

The blue fragment couldn't help but agree with a silent nod. "Hey Caboose, do you remember the time you were sad by my death, or at least one of my iteration's death?"

The dark blue soldier quietly nodded. _Good, at least he is still responsive_ , thought the fragments. "Then how about the time I left with Carolina after all of us took down Project Freelancer?"

The dark blue soldier perked his head up ever so subtly, but a detail that could never escape Delta's eyes. Church walked in close as he pointed towards Caboose's eyes. "You were saddened both times. In fact you even fell into depression both times. But you know what? You overcame the sadness, the depression everytime."

Caboose gently rested his head down once more. He slowly began to turn away but was quickly stopped by the words of Church to follow. "Caboose, I know that this time it's different. Iowa is dead. He is not coming back to life. But what is important is that you remember all the good times you had with him and draw happiness from that. If Iowa were still alive today, he wouldn't want to see you in this state, neither does anyone else here."

Delta agreed as did Freckles. Church once more got the blue one's attention. "You are a strong guy Caboose, you always have been. If feels kind of strange for me to praise you like this, but you know what, you will make it through this. If anything, you are stronger than anyone I know perhaps."

"That's nice of you to say Church," Caboose smiled gently underneath his helmet as he arose a little. "Thanks, you know what? I think I will go for that walk after all."

"Maybe take Freckles with you while you are at it?" Church suggested as the light lit up with excitement in Caboose's gun. Freckles had waited for this moment with great joy. Delta nodded his head. "That is an excellent idea."

Caboose smiled even wider as he picked up his companion that excitedly declared for them take the steps out of the base. Caboose nodded his head and exited the room. "Then onwards we go Freckles!"

* * *

In Red base, Grif walked amidst the barely lit halls for both men preferred to keep the lights off. He stopped upon having heard a few grunts come from Simmons' room. Out of curiosity, worry and fear, he approached the door and stood in its frame to see the lonely man forcing a few things into a suitcase. Grif tried to peek from Simmons' side to see the many clothes and necessities for travel, but also noticed Sarge's shotgun out and about on Simmons' bed. However before he could make his presence be known, Simmons had already caught on. "Can I help you Grif?"

"Huh, I was just wondering if you were packing to go on a vacation or something."

Simmons looked back to his suitcase as he zipped it up and stood up with the shotgun in one hand. He walked past the orange one towards the main area of the base. Grif followed closely until they reached a wall mounted shotgun holder recently placed by the maroon one. He gently rested the weapon properly into the restraints and hung the dog tag off one of the holder pieces. Grif looked at his friend who seemed deep in thought with an intense stare at the dog tags. He patiently waited for a response to which after some thought Simmons finally answered. "I will tell everyone together later."

Grif watched his friend slowly turn about and begin to walk away. "Excuse me, I have things I need to do."

Once again, the two men were alone. Grif stared at the shotgun and felt his heart palpitate a little. It was a sharp pain like the sting of a bee, a pain of loneliness. But a sense of heaviness was mixed in with that pain, heavy like guilt. He lowered his gaze and deepened his breath to try and regulate his heart. Yet the guilt was one just like with Simmons, one to never leave him alone and forever haunt him for his mistakes, and wrong doings. The deaths he had a hand in causing, in particular Sarge, Donut and partially his sister, they will never leave his mind. He suddenly felt a churn within his stomach and heard a grumble. _Even in these times, hunger is the one thing I can't shake off_. Grif eyed the kitchen nearby and approached the fridge. He opened the door, but just as the cool air hit his armor, it was as if his hunger froze over and no longer bothered him. He looked down in discontent at his stomach and slowly closed the fridge door. _Yet when I'm so close to the food, my body no longer wants it…neither do I want it. It's all so fucking bland…maybe just like life itself_.

* * *

Simmons sat on his bed as he stared at the newly repaired phone. He reached for his communicator and stared at the default number to the main UNSC headquarters. He looked from the device to the suitcase and dialed the number. _It's about time I do this, otherwise I will just keep on putting it off…I would just keep on running aimlessly_. The operator on the other end of the line answered, ready to respond to his requests. "My name is Dick Simmons, soldier registration number SIM-2556897."

"Identity confirmed, how can we help you today?"

"I would like to request the following forms, T-39A and T-44B."

"Who are these forms for?"

"Myself."

"Are you certain you want them?" asked the operator as they followed standard procedure for these types of calls. Simmons confirmed for the operator to reply in understanding. "Very well, these forms shall be sent to your base's computer. Please retrieve them as soon as you can. Once you have filled them out, they should be processed within a day and arrangements will be made following that. If you ever have any questions about the forms, call us back."

"Got it, thanks," Simmons ended the call as he rushed over to the main computer, where he saw the mail ping blink on the bottom right corner of the screen. He however also noticed the various code files he had been working on for Basebook version two. He opened one up and noticed the incomplete code. _Perhaps it was never meant to be_. He opened up the mail application and quickly downloaded the form files. Opting to do this in secrecy, he printed his forms and eliminated any digital trail to the forms. He rushed back to his room, hoping to ignore any questions from Grif and put the papers down. Surprisingly as he laid them down, they were as heavy as the weights he would sometimes make an effort to lift in his sleepless nights. Even with his certainty, the weight of these forms felt overwhelming for it meant a great change was about to come. He stared at his dog tags with a solemn smile and noticed a cold presence to his right. The red sliver of light gave him a good idea of who it was.

"So, this is it then, you have finally made your choice?" asked the elderly red ex-leader. Simmons nodded his head as he looked to the forms. "Yes, this was my decision, and mine alone to make."

* * *

The next day, atop Blue base, sat Tucker who observed the canyon under the heat, where he felt like a fish frying alive. However his mind was averted from his own concerns about the heat when he saw Caboose, out and about, he was walking with Freckles tightly in his hands. _Well that is a relieving sight in these trying times_. He smiled underneath the helmet, happy for his friend and hoping that this change spreads throughout the canyon to the others as well. Church appeared beside him bearing news. "Transmission from UNSC headquarters, they are sending reinforcements on their way. They should arrive tomorrow."

"More troops, why?" Tucker asked genuinely curious. "I thought for sure that we would all be tried for treason and probably shot in front of a firing squad."

"Nope, no such consequences pal," Church answered as he crossed his arms and looked out to the canyon. He too felt relieved as did the other fragments at Caboose's step towards recovery. "It turns out that we were all supposed to be a part of the evacuation for some R & R off the planet, once we had completed our mission because of the casualties our unit experienced. It's just that the space douche commander hid it from us all for his selfish fucking promotion."

"Wait, what?" Tucker shifted bewildered at the revelation as he leaned in close to his holographic friend. "How do you know this?"

"I poked around in their systems when we were at the space station, and awaiting a ride back to Blood Gulch," Church put up his hands defensively asking for the aqua one to maintain some distance. "It turns out that the space commander is known to be quite corrupt. There were records of him being involved in a few things here and there, but nothing solid. But after finally obtaining evidence against him, the UNSC has now stripped him of his rank. They are trying him in court."

Tucker nearly let out a loud laugh, one to be heard by the heavens themselves. "Thank our lucky stars."

"Yup," Church agreed with a snicker. "But then again, we have always had a way of being lucky. It's just like Mike had said once, we are quite the lucky bunch."

"Let's not be overconfident that we will jinx ourselves now," Tucker warily spoke as he calmed his blue friend down. Church however dismissed the response as Tucker being superstitious. "Come on, we deserve to boast about it once in a while."

The two laughed quite heartily as Tucker stopped to breathe. He looked up at the clear skies and his smile slowly disappeared into a stoic expression. "You know, things will be different from now on."

"Yeah," Church looked up following Tucker's gaze. "But like always, we will have to just make the best of it."

"True," Tucker agreed with a very explicit nod. However the moment was quickly broken by a loud voice echoing through the canyon to both the bases. They recognized it as Simmons' voice. "Attention everyone, I request that you all join me in the center of the canyon for a very important announcement!"

"What does he want?" wondered Tucker as he exited Blue base with Caboose following closely behind and recounting the adventures in a semi-excited voice. Grif exited Red base with a slightly grumpy expression for he wished to avoid the sun, but he also knew that this related to what he and Simmons talked about to the day prior.

* * *

Noise of thunder echoed in the sky. It was so loud as if it would tear the very sky apart. As the BGC approached Simmons standing in the middle, they all noticed a suitcase beside him. _That's the same one that he was packing before_ , thought Grif. From the noise of thunder came the Pelican that gently landed behind the maroon soldier. Tucker looked up from the bag to the soldier. "What gives Simmons, what's going on?"

"So, this is about what you told me yesterday then?" Grif inquired, getting curious looks from the others. Simmons gently nodded his head as he observed two UNSC soldiers exit the Pelican. "I told Grif yesterday that I would make an announcement today to everyone. The thing is…I'm leaving the canyon and I'm quitting the military."

"I'm sorry, what?" Tucker leaned forward as he rested one hand by the side of his ear. "I might have misheard what you just said, but it sounded like you were quitting the military."

"That's exactly what it is," Simmons quickly answered seeing the shock in everyone based on how they stood frozen. He opted for a moment of silence to let them absorb the news. Grif stumbled forward as he leaned on his friend and gripped his arm. "When did you make this choice?"

Simmons gently brushed his friend's hand off him for it felt like a chain trying to bind him down to the canyon. "Ever since we returned, I had been thinking about it. So it has been a while."

"It will be different with you gone as well," Tucker noted and Simmons agreed with gratitude for thinking of him as such. Grif saw one of the ODST soldiers take Simmons' bag away and finally knew that he could not stop his friend. "Yeah, who will I call a 'nerd' now?"

"You guys will cope, we all will," Simmons answered with reassurance in his voice. "We always have somehow, I'm sure we will find a way this time to."

Tucker paid close attention to Grif and Caboose and shook his head with confidence. "No, the word 'cope' maybe too strong for us right now."

Simmons knew the meaning behind those words for he too understood just how weakened they were, just like him. "I have already called in for replacements. They should be here today or tomorrow."

"So that's why we got that message from headquarters," thought Tucker as he thanked Simmons for his foresight. The maroon one boarded the Pelican and watched the others stand still with still some sadness in their posture. Before the doors began to rise, Grif asked. "What do you plan to do about your fragment?"

"I will keep Eta," Simmons answered as Eta materialized beside him. "He chose to stay with me. I have already talked with the UNSC to make the proper arrangements."

"Things won't be easy," Grif replied with Tucker resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Simmons smiled with confidence and noted. "True, but I have trust in you guys. I know that I will somehow also have to pull through this change somehow, plus, I won't be alone."

"Where will you go?" asked Caboose. Simmons looked up into the sky and with clarity in his voice he replied. "Earth."

* * *

The door closed and the Pelican took off to the skies. Grif was the last to leave the spot as he watched the blip disappear beyond what his vision could manage. Just like that, he was alone. Grif stepped into the Red base to only hear the machinery noises made to keep the base functioning. He looked around in the halls and finally felt the loneliness for there was not another living soul in this base but him. He walked towards the main computer of the base and studied the leftover files by Simmons. Suddenly, a sharp twist built up in his chest as it ached his heart like an abandoned puppy, now wondering his place in life. Until now, there had been all sorts of people in the base, so many colorful personalities, but no more. Grif's head perked up at the doorbell. He walked over to find Tucker and Caboose stand at the doorway. "Why did you guys bother ringing the doorbell, you can just come in."

"That is true, there is no door to stop us," Tucker mused as he held up a bag of chips, and Caboose with his soft drinks. Tucker gently wrapped an arm around Grif's shoulders and led them all to the top. "We came to keep you company, I hope you don't mind."

"Maybe having some company is what I need right now," Grif answered much to the gratification of Tucker. The three sat down atop the rooftop and saw the sun slowly set beneath the canyons. The sky was shaded a vibrant orange vermillion. Tucker split apart the sealing on the bag of chips and Caboose undid the cap to the drink. He poured everyone a cup full as Tucker rested the chips in between them. The three men continued to look up with slightly relieved eyes. Tucker took a bite of the salted chips as he smiled at the scenery. "You know what, this view ain't so bad. Things turned out as well as they could have considering our circumstances."

"Donut, Iowa, my sister, Lopez and Sarge are all dead," Grif shot back as he grimaced. "Not to mention Mike, who we were all starting to warm up to disintegrated into nothing right before our eyes. I don't see how things have turned out well."

"Also Doc," Caboose quickly interjected as the orange soldier agreed. "Right, him to. How do we manage to forget about him nearly all the time?"

"I guess he just has one of those faces, you know?" said Tucker as he took another bite of the chips. "Grif, there may be only five of us left in the canyon now, but remember that Simmons, Wash and Carolina are still out there. I still believe that we are all a family. That doesn't fix what happened, but it gives me hope for the future, and I want for the others to have that hope as well."

The fragments all popped up beside them complaining as they finished materializing. "Hey, don't forget about us!"

"Of course not!" Caboose exclaimed as he leaned closer to Delta. "We are all a family, including you guys. Everyone is the best of friends here!"

Caboose took a large swig of his glass of drink as he swung his legs hanging over the edge and merrily hummed a tune while recollecting his words. "It's sad to lose friends and family."

All of a sudden, he had the attention of everyone present. "I will never forget about those who have gone to a faraway place, but I'm happy for those who are still here."

"Amen," Church whispered as he turned his attention to the nearly darkened skies as the vermillion shade receded. The moon slowly became visible until that barely makeable outline of the circle was shining brightly under the night light. Tucker took a gentle and silent bite of his chip as he too was entranced by the moon's light. "In all our time here, I never noticed how beautiful the moon is. Personally, I'm just glad to be here like this. Sitting with all of you here, eating chips, and drinking cool drinks, this is the simple life."

"True," agreed the other two as Grif fell down onto his back. He slowly closed his eyes when he saw his friends excuse themselves.

* * *

Rays of the rising sun gently reflected off the dark orange visor as the orange soldier slept rather peacefully. The gentle morning breeze that blew past him infiltrated deep into his suit and left a most pleasurable sensation mixed in with the heat. He slowly cracked open his eyes and stirred awake at the sudden chill his body felt. He got up with a loud sneeze, one loud enough to wake up his neighbors opposite to him, but quickly fall back asleep with an annoyed groan. He sniffed to clear his nasals, the clogged feeling left a horrible aftertaste as if he had almost sneezed out his brain. Grif stood up to the stiffness of his body as he groaned ever so slightly at the sore muscles slowly loosening up. He scratched the back of his butt with a long yawn and slowly approached the lower level of the base. It was there he noticed a few extra dog tags, ones that belonged to Donut and Doc. Through the silence of the hall, the events of yesterday flooded his mind. No doubt the tags were left by Tucker. Grif opted to hang them by Sarge's tags and continued to walk to the various areas until he finally came across Simmons' room. _Right, you are gone_. His once curious gaze turned to loneliness. All of the maroon soldier's belongings were now gone, all except for one. It was gently placed onto the bed, the gift he had poured his heart and sweat into getting working again. Grif picked it up with great care as he studied it curiously. He flipped the screen open and saw a note on the back of the phone that instructed him to power it on. He did so and a message displayed that easily caught his attention to its fullest.

"Keep the communicator close and safe," Grif read as he saw at the very bottom, it was signed by Simmons. "It will be the only way to directly communicate with me now that I'm gone. The UNSC will no doubt try to prevent me from contacting any of their bases in the future. Stay safe, and I hope that all of us are able to find happiness once more, signed Simmons."

Grif powered it off as he noticed the power cable nearby to the phone. He picked up the cable and smirked while staring at the note on the back. _You always thought ahead, save for a few times. But you always did seem prepared for the future_. Grif held the communicator close with a deep breath and looked around the room. _Thanks for the one last gift bud_.

* * *

In Blue base, Tucker stared at the various leftover dog tags he had collected and hung them up onto the wall by the base computer. The loading symbol on the screen subsided as the video cleared and he saw a much needed face. "Hey son."

"Father!" spoke the Sangheili in a most excited voice. Both felt relieved to see one another and knew it so. Tucker looked to his side where he gazed at the dog tags and explained the outcome of the mission, and their terror. Junior looked around, unable to formulate any words. To him, everyone in Blood Gulch was his family as he knew them since birth. Tucker saw the pain glimmer in Junior's eyes, and quickly opted to change the topic. Like the proud, but worried parent he always was, he questioned Junior on everyday happening. "You okay Junior, been keeping healthy?"

"Yes, father."

"Anything new happen at work?"

"Not really."

Tucker then broke out into a wide grin as he held up his right pinkie finger and flexed it a bit. "Found yourself a girlfriend yet?"

"No!" pouted the young Sangheili as he looked away in what only Tucker could ever make out to be like a blush. The aqua one laughed heartily. "I'm just kidding. You have the time. Only find a woman when you feel you are ready. And remember-"

"It's best to go to a date with a tank rather than a car," Junior spoke up as his father nodded in agreement. "Chicks love the tank."

"Atta-boy!" Tucker moved for the mouse controls. "Listen, I know it was short but I gotta go. I still need to call some other people. Keep in touch."

"You too, father!" and the screen went black. Tucker looked at his next two contacts, Carolina and Washington. Immediately he saw two little tykes staring at the camera as David moved the kids to the side. "Oh hey, finally you guys contacted!"

Carolina took a seat beside the kids as she gently brushed their hairs. "We were starting to worry."

"Yeah, well a lot of stuff has happened," Tucker smirked as he quickly brought them up to speed. Only David and Carolina now remained for they deemed it inappropriate for their kids to hear the words spoken by the aqua one. David rubbed his hands together as he silently cursed the fate served to them. "Jesus, at least those who are left over came back safe. But are you guys really okay after experiencing so many traumatic events?"

"I would like to say that it's been a piece of cake," Tucker chuckled as he looked in the direction of Red base. "But unfortunately I don't have that luxury."

"How about Caboose, how's he holding up?" asked David and Tucker laughed for his guess was right. "I knew you would ask about him. He seems to have coped with what happened. I think he will recover. We will all cope, we have to."

Tucker looked at the time spent in the call and before he forgot, he quickly addressed one of the main points on his mind. "Simmons has left the canyon."

"Left, as in?" Carolina inquired for further clarification. Tucker simply raised a hand further up into the sky and spoke. "He left as in quit the military."

"Woah!" David nearly knocked the camera over in surprise as Carolina did her best to contain hers and control her husband. "How did it even come to that?"

"Don't really know, I guess it might have been too much to take," Tucker reminisced at the events surrounding Simmons' departure. "But whatever the case, he said he will go to Earth. I wanted to let you guys know ahead of time in case-"

"Don't worry," Carolina began as David agreed. "We will help him settle down. Our doors are always open for all of you."

"Maybe it's also a good idea to say that to him directly," Tucker replied having felt a sense of family once more. Carolina brushed her hair back as she heartily nodded in agreement. "I'm glad that you guys survived at least."

"Me to," David added. Tucker thanked his friends. "Me three, and Church is still here."

"Hey sis," the fragment answered as he materialized for one second, before disappearing again upon seeing her instant smile.

"Take good care of them Tucker," David interjected as Tucker reached over for the end call button. "You got it, and you guys stay healthy to."

"Talk to you later," Carolina spoke as she pressed the end call button. Tucker looked at the screen in reassurance that no matter how separated, their family still existed between those who were alive. "Now then, let's see what we can do for the day today."

* * *

Past mid-day, the sun exerted its cruel heat over the boxed canyon and caused all of its occupants to remain indoors. However, such cruelty was quickly forgotten when everyone heard the familiar sound of a descending Pelican from the higher skies. The BGC members walked to the middle of the canyon based on the projections from their fragments of where the bird would land. Tucker gave a casual nod to Grif who replied the same in turn. Tucker rested both his hands onto his waist as he studied the Pelican. "It looks like the new recruits are here."

"I will do my best to make new friends!" Caboose exclaimed leaving Grif a little surprised. Tucker although agreed with the notion. Grif looked down to his right arm as he flexed his fingers to feel the reality that was around him. _They seem to be moving on, but I…I'm still stuck in that regret. I'm stuck with knowing that I was responsible for their deaths_. He suddenly felt a strong pressure on his right wrist and looked down to find a yellow gloved hand. There he found Sister, staring up at him with a saddened gaze.

On Earth, in a long distance flight, Simmons appreciated the view of the setting sun as he held up the flight phone to his ears. As the line connected, his mouth formed a small smile at hearing the familiar voices.

In the boxed canyon, Grif averted his gaze and studied the landing Pelican. He looked to his comrades and felt a minor revelation coming about. _If moving on is the only way I can find peace…then I must. Living is a struggle, but doing it every day is courage in itself. Things don't always go our way, there are people most precious to us that will suffer because of us, and there are some mistakes that are so tragic, that they can never be undone_. He looked down to the grip she held and gently brushed it off. _But I guess Sarge is still in my head, constantly advising me on things. Sarge through all our adventures taught me that to live is the greatest challenge in life as it is easier to die. Choosing to live is what separates the weak from the strong and gives us a new meaning to live for_.

On Earth, doors to his freedom from the airport parted and he took his first step onto the pavement. It was there he saw his ride. The pale skinned, nearly bald man approached Simmons with arms wide open and took the ex-soldier into a firm embrace. The two gave one another a nod as his escort expressed delight at being able to see him on Earth. Simmons followed the man and got into the car where he was greeted by the orange haired ex-freelancer and their kids. Simmons surprised at the whole family being there, gave a friendly wave to the little ones. David looked in the rear view mirror with a welcoming smile and pulled out from the side of the road. It wasn't long before they reached their home and the two parents quickly acted to make Simmons feel at home. Both David and Carolina put his bags down and looked back with a smile to welcome their newest addition.

In the canyon, a loud rattle echoed from the bay doors of the Pelican as it started to part. Grif stared with intensity of both curiosity and the understanding that he was now soon to be a senior to rookies under him. The whole of BGC stood together to see the doors open halfway. Inside were the illuminated armors of the rookies, all dressed in the standard issue red and blue armor. Grif crossed his arms and looked at their visors with slight grief. _Will things be different with them here, can I ensure that they won't die on my watch?_ But quickly he slapped the side of his helmet confusing all the occupants of the canyon. _No, I can't think like that. While there is no real way of overcoming my mistakes alone, I will do what I can_.

The bay door hit against the hard ground with a loud thud. The Privates exited the Pelican as Tucker stepped forward on behalf of the three soldiers. With a smile on his face, he studied every one of them and noticed the variety in gender, sizes and confidence in the way they carried themselves. He nodded his head in satisfaction. With a wider smile, he welcomed them to their new home and perhaps their new family.

~ Fin ~

* * *

 **A/N: That is all she wrote folks!**

 **So, this one was very different from my previous outings within the RvB fandom I'm sure many of you can agree. What do you think of this story in comparison to my previous two trilogies? (Remember, this is a standalone story for the most part)**

 **Before I get to my closing remarks, here is two last musical suggestions for the story.**

 **Musical Suggestion 1: "Variation 15" from the Dunkirk OST. Start playing it at the second last line break to the last line break.**

 **Musical Suggestion 2: "End Titles" from the Dunkirk OST. Start playing it at the last line break onwards.**

 **Now, a big thank you to everyone who read and supported this story, as well as to those who have been following these ever since my "Red vs Blue Season 14" fanfic, I really appreciate the strong readership as well as love for these stories you have all shown. It motivates me to keep on writing and doing my best to provide a story that I feel is worthy of your time as a reader and doing these characters justice.**

 **A super big thank you to MKDemigodZ-Warrior, bob parley and Andydrewpotato for following this story as well as others. Thank you for following my work for as long as you have.**

 **I know I said that my previous trilogy was different from the norm for a typical Red vs Blue story, but frankly I feel that this is the most different I have ever written a Red vs Blue story to be, especially with all the character deaths involved. But I also felt that the idea of PTSD was appropriate to explore within a more grounded narrative, nothing too grandiose in terms of villains or evil plots. I hope I was able to give the sense of war, that no side is necessarily right or wrong, it's just everyone fights for what they believe in, but those higher up control the various pieces on the board, and some are dragged into it against their will.**

 **I also hope that you felt satisfied at the character interactions and developments that took place as I feel that it is something that won't necessarily happen in the actual show. I wanted to give something different to give the viewers looking for a more mature and grounded story as well to be able to find that even if in the form of a fan work.**

 **What about the future now, anymore RvB fanfics from you Monty?**

 **I have two planned. But they won't be released anytime soon. Probably not until next year as I wish to take my time to plan them out and provide a great narrative. Right now I'm unsure if I should make them a two-part story or both stand-alone. That will all come with some planning as it will shine clarity on the decision making. But all I will say about the two is the following…**

 **Season 21: It will be sort of like Season 17 with the slice of life elements/moments, and bring back the comedy. It will also focus on a recovery journey for the characters and some world building. There will also be character establishment for the new rookies.**

 **Season 22: It's a story akin to something like a action-thriller story, inspired by Captain America: The Winter Soldier. There are bound to be action heavy elements in this one, and the comedy will take a back seat again, but not be completely subsided. I only know of one character I would like to focus on in terms of development right now, unsure what I can do with some of the others.**

 **After that, for now I'm thinking that I will call it quits. I don't have any more ideas for Season 23 and onwards. Plus, I don't want to keep on writing just these. I want to get back to working on original stories over at my fictionpress account (same pen name) after I have written the two more seasons. So those two seasons will be all that you will get from me, and then I may bid my adieu to the RvB fandom, at least temporarily as a writer.**

 **A note for any feedback that this story now gets, thank you for taking the time to do so but it will NOT be implemented due to its completed status. I hope that this does not hinder your reading enjoyment.**

 **Final Disclaimer: This was a fan project and the characters from the show as well as the Red vs Blue title belong to the IP of Rooster Teeth and any partners. I however will claim rights to the story, and any new characters introduced.**

 **This story is not meant to bear any resemblance in any shape or form to the official season 20 when inevitably released by Rooster Teeth.**

 **Catch you all later!**

 **~ Monty Mason**


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